Censorship the Corollary of Corruption 3

Maidstone

The coach drove onto the ferry and it came to a halt. As it sailed across the stretch of water to reach mainland England at Portsmoth I looked back at the Isle of Wight , the prison island and hoped I would never see it again in my life. I remembered some of the guys that I had left behind the friends and enemies, the evil and the good and the innocent and the guilty. I thought of the word "guilty" and whom it meant guilty too. I knew that the verdict meant nothing to prisoners and less and less to the grass roots. I had been judged by my peers and found not to be wanting in any respect either of the fact that I was a convicted murder or a pornographer. The former was all right if you were in the right at the time you killed or whether you killed to stay alive. Prisoners had a strict moral code and it was enforced by the prisoners themselves or I should say the leaders and fighters. I had just left one hierarchy its laws enforced by violence or the banishment of segregation. A few guys like strong man Chico would survive as long as they watched their backs and kept fit because once they became vulnerable someone would kill or maim him because he had raped a number of girls and women in different countries and this was unacceptable also I had weakened his reputation as a an unbeatable fighter and when I had him at my mercy I should have by rights carried out at least the sentence and punishment of maiming but I did not and I did not even think of it but because I was a "lifer" I would not be criticised by the Chaps. A prisoner wanting to make a name for himself would get a badge of honour from the underworld if he maimed or killed Chico. Some of the prisoners in Parkhurst were professional criminals who never thought of anything else but going back to the same life as before but now they had years to plan the big one, the one that could set you up on easy street for life. There were the forgers who took a pride in their work, the bank robbers, payroll snatchers, tie up merchants all which involved gaining large sums of wealth, usually or ideally cash these guys were different from the businessman who walked out of the bank with 20K legally insofar as they they were usually uneducated guys but with plenty of initiative and courage who had decided to be career crimininals because it was the only way that they could live in the style that they wanted then there was the gangsters who were often feared because they were parasitical and violent but the majority were just recidivists who if they counted up their ill gotten gains then it would come to less than the average pay packet. The fact that I made it plain I hated gangsters endeared me to the "honest thief" but did not make me one of them, a robber or a thief, but the vast majority of prisoners and prison officers loved pornography so I was accepted by most prisoner and staff. In fact their views reflected the man in the street and most people did think pornography should be illegal but when stating this fact almost everyone qualified their views by saying something like "Except for child porn and snuff films."

I was thirty five years of age and sitting in a classroom again but this time instead of looking out of the window and day dreaming I paid attention and scribbled notes in my exercise book. The teacher was a lecturer with a couple of degrees and a full fair beard and long shoulder length hair like my own. Everyone in the class had been tranferred to Maidstone because they were gifted in some way or of high intelligence. I now had four O levels English Language, French, German and Art and now I was studying for those subjects at A level and English Law, Sociology, Latin, Accountancy, Commerce, History and Mathematics at O level. Most people were there because they wanted to learn and improve their education but others were there because they had heard that if you educated yourself and gained qualifications then you would get out on parole sooner. Maidstone Education Centre was a bizarre college full of highly intelligent convicts some whom had carried out spectacular crimes. I soon got to know most of them and what they were in for like Tony Gavin who loved Pure Maths and would sit for hours on end doing mathematical equations and who was an ex army sergeant who had carried out a military operation on the Bank of America in Mayfair. He led a team of men who maintained radio contact with lookouts outside the bank and had cut through walls of an adjoining building using thermic lances and entered the safety deposit box room and cracked open all the boxes netting millions in cash, gold, platinum, precious stones and jewellery. It was fascinating listening to Tony during coffee breaks at the college. Then as I was a pornographer he told me that in many of the boxes he had found pornography of all types. What had blown his mind was a photo of a beautiful girl who stared smiling into the camera why she defecated.

"I mean she was looking round, over her shoulder with a big smile on her face and shitting" he would say in amazement and I would laugh and tell him about a coprophiliac that I know would get his girlfriend to squat on a glass table while he lay underneath masturbating with a perfumed handerchief over his face. Tony was amazed at this kind of sexual behaviour but being a pornographer I had seen everything that was on sale in the Soho shops. Coprophilia was a rare subject with a minority appeal but it existed and Peter the only guy that I ever knew who admitted to practising it assured me that it was quite common and that Heals in the West End sold coffee tables with glass tops expecially for the devotees!

I asked Tony what he had done with all the porn that he had found in the boxes he gave a laugh and he said that they, the bank robbers, had left it all over the floor but if I knew the male and human nature I suspect that they took some for themselves. Tony was a nice guy and a family man and he always spoke of getting a move nearer home so that he could be near hs wife and family.

But not all intelligent prisoners were on education and some chose not to attend but to have other jobs like Bruce Reynolds the Great Train Robber who worked in the prison library. I was not there long when I was invited to the Chaps Club which took place every evening in Frankie Sims,the bullion robbers cell.

Bruce said to me "Do you fancy a smoke tonight?"

"I never refuse a smoke" I said but I don't smoke tobacco.

"Neither do we, we use a pipe but the golden rule of the club is never refuse a pipe! Okay?"

"I have never refused a pipe in my life if it is good hash" I answered truthfully.

"Oh this is the best straight from Amsterdam courtesy of Hennie the Dutchman."

"Yeah who is he?"I asked.

"Oh Hennie he is a great guy and used to play for Ajax of Holland. He got caught by a British destroyer in the Channel with five tons of hash on board!" Bruce laughed and his face lit up in aprroval of the Dutchman's daring and entrepreneurship.

I laughed too signifying my admiration and approval.

"Come to Frankie's peter straight after unlocking. Everyone there is one of the chaps except the guy who loads the pipe. he is just a mug, but a nice guy who loads the pipe for a free smoke."

"Okay Bruce" I will be there promised.

"Knock three times and say Mickey Muldoon and the doorman will ley you in" Bruce said a smile lighting up his handsome face and pure white teeth, his blue eyes twinkling behind his gold framed spectacles. You have not met all of the guys and one is Tony Dunford, everyone knows what he done and don't freak out because he is a nice guy.

Alarm bells were ringing now because as Bruce said Tony Dunford was a double killer whose second murder was a fellow prisoner who had called Dunford a "poof." after he had fallen in love with another prisoner and started engaging in sex with him.

I knelt on the hard floor of my cell and meditated filling up my lungs from the bottom, banishing all thought from my mind until the sound of doors unlocking for evening association, half past five until nine o' clock brought out of the trance. I stretched until a screw opened my door then loosening up I did a little bit of shadow boxing.

"Association?" the screw shouted laconically looking through the Judas Hole. He had to ask because some prisoners did not go on "association" because association was a time that the prisoners mixed freely without much supervision and when any scores were settled a time when one could be pulled into a cell and killed. "Yes please guvnor" I answered and the metal door opened with a jangle of keys and a crash and the noise of the wing, muffled by the thick walls and steel door, came into my cell, then left my cell marching along the landing, a warrior going to meet his fate. My practise of martial art and reading had made me interested in the philosophy and I was beginining to practise it. I had read about the "way of the warrior" and had begun to practise it.

I knocked on the door of the "club" and said "It's Mickey Muldoon" and a wedge was removed from with a heavy object from inside and the door opened by the doorman and pipe maker. I entered the cell .

Several cons were already in the cell with Bruce and several others that I did not know. I was on full red because several guys in a cell alone with you can easily kill you. I had been attacked by three hard men at once in prison and defeated all of them because I was a gifted fighter, who surprised himself, but I knew that I would stand very little chance against several men especially the "chaps" who were usually hard and fit men by stint of their place in the prison hierarchy in this tiny cell.

"Hello Mickey glad that you could come. Let me introduce you to the others." And Bruce gestured to a huge giant of a man whom I knew instinctively was Tony Dunford. It was common knowledge that I had photographed three girls who were below the age of consent two of fifteen and one of fourteen but this was not considered to be child porn by prisoners or most especially as the News of the World had told the story and everyone knew they were getting paid and were teenage prostutes in Soho who wore lots of make up. I knew that they were young and pictures of young girls sold like hotcakes but it would be stupid if they were under sixteen because the shops would inform the OPS. After that I had always wanted proof of age where they looked really young. I was happy that I had not transgressed the "code of honour" because I would either have had to go on protection or be ready to defend myself against attacks by prisoners who wanted to make a name for themselves all the time. This was going through my mind now as I grasped Tony Dunford's massive hand and looked him in the eyes.

"Hello Tony" I said shaking the hand of the giant and sitting down like everyone else. Sitting down brought me barely up Dunford's shoulder and his proximity made me feel so very physically smaller and weaker. I looked into his eyes and they were expressive and the paranoia that I had felt left my body and I breathed in deeply.

"Hello Mickey pleased to meet you" Tony replied

I smiled back at him then Bruce was introducing me to someone else "This is Franky Sims and this is his peter"

I extended my hand to Franky Sims and said "Hello Frank pleased to meet you." I had heard of Franky Sims and knew that he had done a big bullion robbery at London Airport.

Franky's red jolly face lit up with warmth "Please to meet you son. Seen a few of your blue films outside" he said with a laugh that shook his whole body and everyone else joined in. "Love a blue film son!

Everyone laughed again and I realised that Franky liked to make people laugh with his broad East End accent and the emphasis he put on some words and the facial expressions showed that he was a born comic.

"Here you are Michael " Bruce was saying "Have a pipe!" and the pipemaker extended a loaded hash pipe to me.

I took the pipe which was quite short with a metal top and a plastic biro tube as the stem. I did not like the plastic because of possible fumes and the pipe would be hot. It was much better to have a shorter pipe which gave the smoke a chance to cool down but the pipe was well used and coated with resin so probably safe. A lighter was placed into my hand and I applied the flame to the piece of hash lying in the small brass bowl. I exhaled until my lungs were empty, applied the flame and then inhaled, holding the flame on the piece of hash which glowed red like a small piece of coal, the brown turned to black and then to a light grey until I had inhaled every bit of smoke. I then pressed my chin down upon my upper chest, locking in the smoke,and until the THC was absorbed into my bloodstream and travelled to my CNS.

Franky started laughing and cheering clapping his hands and everyone joined in as I held in the pungent, spicy smoke then I let it out slowly through my nostrils. Smokers were brothers and the smoking of the pipe a ritual which showed if you were a man or not. If you exhibited paranoia and "cracked up" then your reputation would be in tatters and being a good smoker and holding in smoke was admired in a tribal way as was the telling of jokes and stories. "Outside" was the same and a good test of character was to smoke hash with someone or a group of people. Alcohol could be used this way too I knew but them most people could handle it unlike cannabis the effects of which terrified some.

A guy with the looks of a young Paul Newman looked at me with blue eyes sparkling and said "I'm Alan Stocker. Pleased to meet you.Call me Alan. I am doing a fourteen for bank robbery he said with pride.

I shook his hand "Hello Alan. Pleased to meet you. I am Mickey the pornographer" and my reply brought further laughter. Meanwhile the pipe was going around then another guy was shaking my hand.

I looked at a guy with black curly hair and a tanned completion whose face was creased into a broad smile showing his white teeth. "All right son? I am Frank Samways the bank robber doing a twelve. Please to meet you Mick" he said in a deep gravelly voice accentuated by his East End accent

" Yes, I am all right and pleased to meet you" I said thinking how strange it was to have all my friends as bank robbers and convicted murderers. I did not think of myself as "a murderer but a pornographer and funny I had never met another pornographer in prison" these thoughts were flashing through my mind when the pipe was being offered to me again. I took it from the pipe maker and smoked it inhaling all the smoke and wasting none. It was strong hash and I was already stoned on the second pipe. But the pipe came again and again until it seemed that the cell was a hollow rectangle flashing through space at the speed of light. I wondered if it was possible to exceed the speed of light and Einstein's theories flashed through my mind.

Suddenly there was a tapping on the door and the sound of a screw's voice Alistar the Censor who after reading one's mail delivered it to your cell personally. "Mail for Stocker and Samways. Are you in there lads?"

"Yes guv" shouted Stocker and Samways in unison and I wondered if someone was going to knock out the big wooden wedge which had a rubber base to prevent it slipping out.

"Slide them under the door guvnor" shouted Stocker through the haze of blue cannabis smoke his voice loud enough to penetrate the thick steel door and to be heard above the noise of the prison. At association times the wing was very noisy indeed with noise echoing along the "spurs." Medway House was built in a modern manner with three four storey spurs coming off a central staircase unlike the open landings of the old Victorian buildings of most prisons.

Suddenly two letters came sliding under the door and were handed to Stocker and Samways by Bruce.

The pipe was in my hands again and my head was in space and my voice seemed far away as I held up my hand as if to say that "I have had enough."

I stared at the floating faces that began to cheer and then chant "Come have another one, have another one, have another one" until I took the pipe again and carefully applied the lighter flame to the small piece of hash and smoked it, sucking in the last of the smoke then opening my mouth to inhale some cooling air which I mixed with the smoke, filling my lungs to bursting point.

Then everyone began to cheer and the pipe continued to be passed around the circle as I exhaled.

"Hear Bruce tell us why you left a sack of ten bob notes in the phone box? " Samways was asking.

Everyone looked at Bruce who was sitting cross legged on a cushion on Franky Sims bed his back against the cell wall. Bruce's face lit up into a smile as he started to speak and remember."It was for the Old Bill! I phoned him up from that box and agreed to leave the sack there. I gave him the exact location on the map of the area. It was out in the sticks see, at a cross roads without any buildings or people in sight. The stupid bastard who supposed to be a detective got lost and by the time he got there, then a member of the public, some straight goer geezer out for a walk with his dog found it and phoned the local nick. Stupid cunt" said Bruce.

Everyone laughed and Bruce said "It's not funny because we had to pay the stupid cunt again."

This brought more laughter and I became aware that I was laughing too, tears rolling down my face. My sides were aching and I laughed and laughed and laughed and could not stop despite the pain.

"If only the fucking judge could see us now" Sims shouted and we laughed even louder.

"We are having a laugh now but I would do anything to get out of this fucking place" said Samways sadly as we all looked at him and the laughter died to a few giggles.

"Any thing, even let the governor fuck you on the center with everyone watching?" Sims said bursting into deep chuckling sound that soon became a laugh in which everyone joined.

Samways did not answer then Sims said "I would crawl to the center pull down my trousers and grease my own arse to go home."

"I don't believe that Frank" came Dunford's voice quietly.

I remembered then that Tony was homosexual but then I saw that he was smiling.

"What about you then Mick. What if they said that you would have to be a lavatory attendant for the rest of your natural?" said Bruce Reynolds laughing.

"No way! I exclaimed. There is no way that I would do the job. I would rather stay in prison."

"Do you mean to say that if they said that you could go out tomorrow and be a lavatory attendant you wouldn't take it?" interjected Samways.

"No, I am certain that I would not take it" I answered seriously and adding that "I would not even consider it."

Tony Dunford said "You would not be pushed from the top down to the bottom of the social scale in a class society because it would make you feel inferior. Pornographers are artists whose work is considered controversial by an authoritarian state and considered to be in socio economic group one."

I looked at Tony who with his big full beard and middle class accent and vocabulary was like some huge professor and realised that he was expecting me to comment.

"Yes that's it Tony I am an artist and I enjoy my work" I replied.

"And you enjoy all the money too" commented Stocker while smiling in a friendly way.

"The money is nice but I would do it anyway just for the pleasure" I answered.

"Yeah and all the cunt" Sims said laughing loudly and this set everybody off again.

Suddenly someone downstairs was ringing a bell and a screw was shouting "All away everybody, don't forget your water and back to your cells."

"That's it" said Franky Sims. " All out. see you tomorrow night."

I got to my feet and then the wedge was being banged out of the door by the pipemaker and the door opened letting out the hash fumes and letting in the noise and brightness of the outside spurs that were full of prisoners making their way to their cells to be locked up for the night. I heard someone ask another prisoner "Got any porn?"

I walked along the spur until I came to my own cell and going inside I banged the door.

I lay down in my celibate bed and started to think about the Sixties, the time of rock n roll, and the sexual revolution. Girls had started to wear the mini skirt and then as they discovered the power that they had over the male of the species they started to flash. Knickers became a common sight and some girls still wore suspenders and stockings, On a hot summers day, a stroll around the West End would result in a semi erection with the end of my cock getting wet. The atmosphere was sexual and now young girls were available and letting you fuck them whereas in the Fifties you had to put an engagement ring on a girls finger before you could play with her tits or feel har cunt. Some where said to be on the pill and they would let you come up them.

The phone was ringing it was Fat Bill's voice "Mickey there are three young chicks walking around Soho and Leicester Square, Picadilly and they are on the game. They sit around Eros opening and closing their legs" Fat Bill's breathing was heavy and an image of his shiny fat face with his little black eyes, reduced to currant size by his glasses flashed through my mind.

"On the game! How much are they charging" I laughed over the phone.

"Two quid you can have two at once for a fiver and they put on lesbian shows as well" puffed Bill with excitement in his voice.

I felt my penis stirring at the images Bill was created in my mind "Fucking hell Bill I ought to smudge them up" I said getting excited myself.

"You would earn a fortune Mickey they are beautiful"

"Okay Bill I'll be over" I said putting down the phone.

Tony sat beside me in the car as we drove into Picadilly Circus and around Eros I saw them as soon as I looked underneath the statue, three of them wearing skin tight jeans. "Fucking hell its them Tone" I said to Tony.

"Fucking hell you are right Mickey. Wow they are fucking lovely" enthused Tony as I drove up Shaftesbury Avenue towards the car park in Denman Street.

Tony was a handsome young guy of twenty with blonde wavy hair and blue eyes with the fashionable skinny physique of a rock n roll singer and at five eight, he could pull and had fucked most of the girls that I knew and had numerous one night stands. "Tony go down and chat to them , ask them if they want to pose" I said.

Tony gave me a big smile and was off down to Picadilly Circus. I got out of the car leaving the keys in and the motor running for the attendant to park and as he walked towards me I shouted "Might be only a short stay" and I followed Tony walking briskly down to Eros. As Cupid got nearer I saw Tony sitting next to the three girls and chatting intimately with them. I vaulted over the railings and walked towards Tony and the girls and as I grew nearer I saw that they were very pretty. Two of them had long brunette hair down past their shoulders, one absolutely straight and fine the other curly and thick then there was another with short wavy hair. They all wore tight jeans flared at the bottoms and shrunk tight around their buttocks and crotches and I wondered where the mini skirts were that I had assumed that they were wearing when Bill told me that they were flashing, I could not really use jeans in the photos.

I walked around Eros and lounged back against the railing opposite while the roar of the London traffic full of black taxis and red buses filled the air and Tony seeing me got up and walked over to me smiling broadly and I knew that had agreed to pose.

"Yeah they are fucking little ravers, the two girls with long hair Lorna and Sharon are seventeen and Trish is sixteen. I said that you would give them five for lesbian photos and ten for fucking." Tony said looking at the girls and nodding.

We walked back over to the girls and I said "Please to meet you girls. I am Mick the photographer. Tony tells me that you would like to pose? Let me say you would make lovely models you are so pretty and sexy."

"Yes" they all said eagerly and Sharon added "Thank you."

I turned to Tony and said "Let's all walk up to the carpark. I'll go first and get the motor, wait for me on the corner of Denman Street, all right?"

I hurried up to the carpark and pressing a fiver into the attendant's hand I got into gold Jaguar and drove out as he had left it near to the exit. I drove out and pulled up by the girl's and Tony on the cormer and we drove off. I looked in the back where the three girls sat and started to form an idea for a set of hot pictures. Schoolgirls had started to shorten their uniform skirts and were flashing on the London Sixties streets and were getting open attention from boys and men. I pulled up outside of Woolworths.

"What we come here for? Trish asked.

"We have come here to buy you some school uniforms with little short skirts and ties and blouses. Tony take the girls and buy them a uniform each and get those really short tennis skirts that they are all wearing.

"The girls all started tittering as they followed Tony out of the car. I got out and went to a red phone box and dialled the number of Kim's studio.

"Hello Kim's Studios" came a voice.

"Look its Mickey Muldoon I would like to book the studio for this evening."

"Okay Mickey, I will get it ready for you.

I adjusted the Umbrellas of the Bowens set up and picking up a polaroid I pointed it at the girls who were changing into the school uniforms and took a test shot and everyone looked over at me as the flashes went off.

"Do we have to wear these virgin socks and white cotton knickers?" asked Trish turning up her nose. "I hate them!"

"Yes or teacher will punish you" I joked and this brought some more giggles from Sharon and Lorna.

I looked at the polaroid and it was fine so I plugged my Rolleiflex into the sync cable and looked down into the ground glass screen. The girls looked like the new sexy Sixties school girls that everyone in authority were trying to control but could not. Tony put his arms around Sharon and started to kiss her then put his hand inside he blouse as he did so Trish and Lorna looked at each other and giggled. Tony's hand was now up Sharon's short skirt his hand inside her knickers. I started to take shots when suddenly the doorbell rang.

Tony stopped fingering Sharon and said" That must be Danny.

I heard the downstairs door open and Kim's voice saying "Come on in" and feet coming up the stairs then knocking on the door. There was a red light outside the door saying "Studio in Use."

"Come in" I shouted and Danny a good looking guy, a friend of Tony's who had modelled for me before entered. "Hell Danny" I said. Everyone had stopped and were looking at Danny and I.

"Tony, girls don't stop. I am getting some good shots. Just carry on and Danny will be joining you."

Danny just smiled and took off his trousers and pants revealing a penis that was already swelling to erction in antipation and looking through the viewfinder I captured the girl's faces as they all stared at Danny's big cock. Then Sharon sank to her knees then smiling at me she put Danny's big cock into her mouth and began to suck it. Kim seeing this and Tony standing above her with his cock out masturbating squatted down to suck Tony's cock.

Trish was just sitting down watching and I said "Come on Trish join in the fun, play with Sharon's cunt while she is doing that. Trish got down and without further prompting started to finger then to suck the other girl cunts. My cock got really hard and I knew that I was getting some horny shots. Then both Tony and danny fucked the girls while Trish knelt down and pulled open their hairy cunts so that one could see the the boys cocks going in and out and the wetness of their juices that revealed their excitement.

Tony was gasping "I am going to come."

"Well pull it out and shoot it all over her" I said as I liked to see spunk in a picture because it was erotic to look at and and a symbol of orgasm.

Tony pulled out and standing up quickly said. "Sharon hold your tits up" and then he shot several sparays of hot, white spunk all over her tits. I pressed the shutter three times and captured it on camera. Then Danny said "Fucking hell that made me come too and he pulled out quickly and shot all over Lorna's belly and thighs.

Trish made an "Urrg" sound and turned up her nose as she held Danny's cock hot wet and glistening with Lorna's juices as it pulsed and pumped out lots of spunk that shot all over her friend. "Urrgh dirty boy" she said giggling.

I stood up saying "Great okay that's it thanks everone" and I pulled out a roll of notes and started to count them out on a table. Suddenly I heard a grunting sound and their was Tony fucking Trish on the floor. She had her legs wrapped around his back and was making little moaning noises as Tony fucked her like a rabbit his little white buttocks moving rapidly betreen Trish's thighs/

"Fucking hell. You should have done that on film" I remarked to the copulating couple.

Driving them back to Picaddilly Sharon suddenly remarked "We know a young guy with a really big cock. We met him in the Two Eyes Coffeee bar and he is a singer" then the threes girls started laughing. "It is really huge" Sharon added. Then they all broke into laughter.

January 10, 2008

The girls had their handbags open and looking at themselves in the mirrors as they painted their faces, "All girls are artistic because they paint their faces" someone had said and I studied their faces in the rear view mirror. Their mouths were stained bright red and imitated lips engorged by the blood of the sexually excited then the eyes enlarged as all of them applied thick black mascara along the top of their eyelids and eyelashes and the eyelashes.

"I will come over and see you Wednesday I said at about three o'clock in the afternoon" I said looking in the rear view mirror at the girls . And bring the guy with the huge cock."

"He is my boyfriend"

"Oh it is huge" exclaimed Sharon giggling.

"Really huge" giggled Lorna.

The girls were still gigggling when they got out the Jag at at Picadilly Circus. The place was a riot of flashing lights and lots of young people were sitting around Eros many of the girls wearing the new mini skirts that was evidence of the Sixties Revolution an"d its slogan "Make love not war" and my eyes drank in the eyefood of feminine sexual attraction and flesh. I noticed lots of males circling around Eros hunting for sex.

" Let's drive over to White's place in Nottinghill." He said that we could use it anytime" Tony said.

"Okay I don't want to go home yet and we could get the location fixed for Wednesday I replied and I drove down Oxford Street to Marble Arch then down Bayswater Road. "Let me know when you see the turning" I said to Tony.

We passed two business girls dressed in really short skirts and high heels, their suspenders showing below their skirts."Wow, smashing, fucking hell, did you see those two tarts. dirty bitches getting fucked for money all the time" exclaimed Tony turning to stare back.

"Tony watch out for the turning. Yes I saw them and those fucking suspenders are sexy" I enthused.

"Yeah, that is what I should be doing, a gigilo getting paid to fuck women all the time" Tony said looking out of the car.

"Well you do get paid to fuck women on camera" I said.

"Yeah but not all the time, every day I mean like, and different ones. You know what I mean" Tony enthused.

"What about the ugly old birds of Sixty?" I laughed as I visualised Tony fucking an old woman.

"I'd fuck her for the money" Tony said laughing.

"Well I would not mind if she was like Marlene Dietrich" I observed.

"It is the next turning on the right" Tony said. "Yes, there is Queensway tube station, past that, then do a right."

We pulled up outside a big white terraced house and Tony said "Yes this is it. It's down the basement" and crossing the pavement he opened an ornamental iron gate that shone with fresh black paint in the street lights and we walked down the iron work stairs to the basement flat.

Tony rang the bell and I heard the sound of someone coming to the door and then it opened to reveal a guy of about thirty. "Hello Tony come in" and looking at me "and bring in your friend too" and as soon as he spoke I could tell that he was queer. Chris the radio 1 disc jockey had given me Brian White's address and Tony had been over to see him. By the way Brian was talking to Tony they already knew each other well.Tony had plonked himself down on a big luxurious setee and I sat down in an armchair. I could smell the ground coffe that Brian was making in the kitchen, the flat was warm and luxurious.

"Well darling aren't you going to introduce me to your friend Michael that you have told me so much about" Brian said smiling at me.

"Mickey this is Brian, Brian this is Mickey" Tony said.

Brian said "I am pleased to meet you. I am making some fresh coffee would you like some? I know Tony does."

"Yes it smells delicious" I remarked and Brian got up and went into the kitchen. I looked around at the filled bookshelves, the expensive antique fittings, furniture and the original framed paintings and drawings that adorned the walls of Brian's flat.

"How many times you been over here then Tone?" I questioned Tony.

" A few times Tony said looking at me with a wide eyed innocent look on his face.

Brian returned carrying a tray with three cofee cups and little jugs of cream, milk and a bowl of sugar and a filter cofee pot. He picked up the pot "Black or white with cream or milk Michael I know Tony likes cream and sugar" said Brian tossing his head back his words slightly affected with a camp intonation.

I knew hat he was signalling to me that Tony had been over here a lot and I said "I'll have cream and sugar too."

"One or two sugars?" Brian said sitting forward in a feminine way and making my coffee.

"Cream and one sugar" I replied

He then got up and put it down next to me on a little table that was next to my armchair and placed it carefully down on a coffee mat. I drank the coffee quite quickly and put down my cup.

"Would you like some more?" Brian asked.

"No thanks but it was nice" I replied.

"Blue Mountain Jamaica. Would you like some water, or perhaps a drop of Napoleon Brandy? Brian asked.

"Well I certainly would like to taste the brandy" I replied.

Brian took an enormous brandy glass out of wooden and glass antique cabinet and a bottle of Napoleon Brandy and poured some into the glass, handing it to me.

I sat sipping the branding while Brian put the Stones Their Satanic Majesties on the record player. I felt like a smoke and brought out my pipe and a piece of hash. "Do you mind if I smoke this?" I asked Brian.

He looked over and laughed "No darling as long as you don't burn any holes in my furniture or carpets. I will get you an ash tray."

I sat there smoking the pipe and the music sounded different now that I was getting stoned and the beat was going right through my body.

Tony was just sitting there not saying anything unlike his garrulous self.

Brian said "Mick has got so thick lips hasn't he? Mick Jagger, I mean."

"Yeah and skinny like Tony" I said in a slightly envious way. Then adding "He gets all the girls like Tony too." I was thinking that "a lot of girls were scared of me because of all my muscles whereas Tony was not seen as threatening. None of the three girls had showed out to me but they were all over Tony. I had not fucked any of them, but that might have been because of being on the game and letting anyone fuck them for money. I had heard that a lot of people were getting gonorrhea."

"Penny for your thoughts?" Brian was saying.

I looked down at the pipe that was still smoking in my hands. "Oh I was thinking about Jagger and how skinny he is but he still gets lots of girls."

"Well I like big sexy,hunky men myself" exclaimed Brian fluttering his eyelashes at me and giggling.

I knew that he fancied me and I just tried to look cool about it while Brian stared at me looling for some response.

"What about being sucked off. Queers really like to suck big cocks" Brian said "Oh come on just a suck. I wont do anything else"

I looked up at him and over at Tony and he smiled back as though he had had experienced this scene before.

"I'll turn the lights out" Brian said and taking my stoned silence as assent he turned off the light.

It was absolutely pitch black in the room and I sat there not moving, then fingers undid my flies and a hand reached inside my trousers and pulled out my cock, soft hot lips around my cock and I became hard. All I could hear were the loud, dirty sucking noises and feel the mouth of an expert fellator around my cock and suddenly I was coming and with a groan I ejaculated into a mouth greedy for semen that drank every drop.

Driving home to South London Tony in the passenger seat beside me I said "I bet that you get sucked off all the time?"

Tony looked at me and gave a coy little smile and I was aware suddenly of his androgyny "He has got a cock himself and that is why he can make you come." Tony lay back in the red leather seats and closed his eyes. "I wish Pauline could suck like that!" he remarked and giggled to himself.

Then I wondered just who had been sucking my cock when the light was off. I remember when I had stayed at Tony's flat and Pauline his nineteen year old wife had come into my room wearing a baby doll nightdress, high heels and a little pair of see through knickers that she undid at the side and bending down giving me a long French kiss, sat on me and guided my hard cock into her wetness, riding me until I came. Then after she returned straight to her and Tony's bedroom and I heard Tony groaning in orgasm. Pauline had said to me "Tony is a pervert! He loves sucking me out after I have been fucked." At the time I thought that she was just being a bitch and joking. I wonder what Sandra would say if she found out that I had been sucked off by a man.

Tony was picking up the girls in his car and the shoot was on with their boyfriend at Brian's flat. I had expected Brian to be out but he was still there. There was also a young guy with long blonde hair looling at me an angry expression on his face.

"Can you tell this queer cunt to stop chasing me around and trying to touch my cock!" he blurted out.

I looked at Brian and could hear the three girls laughing and chatting in the bedroom and just smiled at him "Don't be naughty Brian!"

"I can't perform if he is around I'm telling you now. I didn't come down here for nothing. I came to pose for you" the young guy complained buttoning up his trousers.

I realised that he had been warming up with the girls so to speak.

"I'll make myself scarce then I promise" said Brian and went out of the room.

I turned to the guy and said his gone now let' go into the bedroom with the girls. " I'm Mick the photoagraper, what's your name?"

"Jeff " the skinny guy replied.

"What do you do" I asked I heard that you are a singer.

"Yeah man I sing and play the guitar"

"Okay Jeff I said walking into the bedroom "I'll try to get Chris to play your record. The the girls were putting on their make up. All the them were dressed in short mini skirts and high heels, stockings and suspenders. I thought great "Just like the girls on the street. I would use the clothes that they wore for this shoot. I noticed a pair of little black knickers on the bed and pointing at them I said Whose are those?"

"Mine" said Sharon with a shy smile.

"Well put them back on because I like them on at first" I ordered.

Sharon picked up the little black knickers and wriggled into them smiling at me as she did so and I immediately felt my penis responding at the sight.

I picked up my camera and said "Jeff, you lay on the bed in the middle. Now you girls all kneel round on the bed and look at his cock."

Jeff took off his trousers and pants to reveal an enormous semi erect penis that seemed to reach almost to his knees and was accentuated by his almost emaciated body and positioned himself on the bed between the girls. Sharon got hold of Jeff's enormous cock and shook it and it immediately became hard and all the girls looked at it and started to giggle. I started to press the camera shutter. "Now show me your tits and let those skirts ride up. that's it. Now start to pull the knickers off slowly, not right off Trish put yours back on. I have never seen girls who want to get their knickers off so quickly" I joked which brought a laugh from the girls but Jeff looked serious as the girls played with his cock. I thought that it was the biggest that I had ever seen. "Now Lorna and Sharon put both your lips and tongues round his cock and suck it while you Trish take off their knickers and play with their pussies" and each time a new picture was posed I pressed the shutter the Mecablitz freezing any movement without blurring the image. Sharon and Lorna rode the big cock while Trish pulled open the girls cunts and buttocks.

"I can't hold off much longer man" Jeff suddenly exclaimed.

"Stand up and shoot it all over them. Girls lick it all up and as Jeff stood up he started to come with the Sharon and Lorna licking at the shower of creamy spunk as though it was ice cream and smiling broadly pleased that they had made this happen. Trish just knelt there so I gave her a playful slap across her bare buttocks/

"Don't touch me" she said sulkily I'm a lesbian."

I was walking through the streets of Soho and the brown envelopes I kept stuffing in the poacher's pockets of my Macintosh were bulging. Everone was order the photos and the orders were twice as large as usual. I was rich and the photos of the girls were selling like the proverbial hotcakes.

A beel was ringing bringing me out of my dream and I opened my eyes and I was back in my narrow iron bed looking at the iron bars on the windows.

I walked into the classroom and the guy known as Tabby, because he gave away free acid tabs nodded to me and said "Do you want a cup of coffee Muldoon?"

"Yes I will have one, no sugar please" Tabby placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of me.

"Thanks a lot. The teacher whose name I did not know yet walked into the classroom. He had told us his first name but I had forgotten. The class coming up was O level English Law and he seemed to teach everything the "hippie looking teacher seemed to teach everything" I thought because his last class was O level Commerce. I listened attentively and started to take notes in my pad.He was writing on the board now "Obiter Dicta : Words by the way" and the messages "Obita means words, Dicta, have been spoken came into my mind. Suddenly the smell of tobacco smoke assailed my nostrils and I wanted to get away from the acrid smell. I got up and saw tobacco smoke drifting from the four seats at the back of the classroom. I thought that we ought to have a no smoking rule in class but when I suggested it before the tobacco smokers said that I was a hypocrite because I smoked hash in a pipe so everyone knew that I hated the smell of tobacco. My stomach gave a heave and I felt sick and as turned to the teacher and said "Excuse me" then walked out of the classroom I heard someone sniggering. I walked up the stairs to the toilet and went inside and vomited into the toilet bowl until my stomach felt empty and "poison" went through my mind, then my bowls felt loose and I sat down on the bare porcelain bowl and emptied my bowels : ACID went through my brain. I got up and looked into the mirror and saw my face loking back and it was covered in beads of perspiration that slid down my face and sparkled like jewels. "Yes you are tripping" I said to the image "Never look in a mirror when you are tripping" someone had said and I realised that this was the first time that I had looked into a mirror on a trip except for the time I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a shop window in Leicester Square and saw that I was Jesus Christ. "Wow this is strong acid! Must be 3 or 400 micrograms!" Now that I realised that it was not poison but acid the paranoia left me and started to smile at myself in the mirror. I turned on the taps and as the water gushed out I washed my face and felt on top of the world. "The observer is part of the observation. What I am seeing is created partially by myself" passed through my mind again and I started to walk down the stairs back down to the classroom and by the time I had reached the bottom Act Normal flashed through my brain. I entered the classroom and walked to my table and sat down and picking up the coffee I drank down the half a cup that remained knowing that I had definitly ingested in excess of the 400 mics needed to go on a full trip and I into the surprised signals of the spikers and picking up my ball point pen I began to take notes again. As we left the classroom I acted one hundred per cent straight ignoring the distorted features of the spiker as he beamed in on my features for a close up.

"Yes they can't tell" I thought as I walked into the dining hall and joined the queue of cons lining up for tea, the evening meal. I remembered the time when my Mum and Dad used to say "Tea is ready" and I used to ask "Is the tea ready?" before I got rich and wanted to speak like a posh educated person and then I started to call "tea" "dinner." I remembered serving the food down the island as I held out my tray and fish, mashed potatoes, peas and a white parsely sauce was ladeled, hot and steaming into the compartments of my tray an a piece of spotted dog was put into the sweet compartment and hot yellow custard was poured over it. I walked over to my table feeling good and put my tray opposite Alan and sat down.

"All right son" Alan said looking up with his Paul Newman face.

"Yes I am all right. How are you?" I replied then I started to eat my food.

I glanced around and got the idea that Samways and another con were studying me so I nodded, smiled then went back to my dinner. I relised that Shakespeare was right we are all acting out our parts of the stage of the world. "Normal is just another act" the Eureka concept flashed onthe screen of my mind.

Alan had finished his dinner "Fucking shit! I'll see you down Frankys after unlock OK?" he said.

He said and his words rang through my brain over and over echoing back to me. I got up went to the pig bin and shovelled the remains of my dinner into the bin then walking past a sea of distorted faces I walked back up to my cell and going in I banged the door. I was safe in here like being locked inside your own little vault and I had read somewhere that a millionare had built a cell inside his own house so that he could lock himself up if any dangerous people broke into his home but there was only one difference he had the key. I sat down on the bed and then I heard the Judas Hole slide open and an eye looking through.

"Fucking hell! Locked yourself up you are getting institutionalised " he laughed his words muffled by the thick steel door.

I looked at the eye and it became a long way away like down the end of a tunnel" I wanted to do a bit of writing" I said down the tunnel. I turned and picked up an exercise book and a ball point pen.

"Okay man cool" came the sound of Stocker's audio mixed with the ticking sound of the little piece of round metal, the cover over the spyhole that was swinging backwards and forwards as it reached equilibrium. I was alone now in the cell I got up and started to look at my paintings on the wall of the cell. The frames were space warping like receiving dishes and as I looked at the paintings I saw broadcasts on screens within images some of them very realistic. I picked up a brush and pallette and squeezed some raw umber onto the brush and developed the images which got stronger as if they were in a tray of developer.

A screw came around banging up the doors and as he passed my cell he uttered "Painting again" he uttered in passing on to the next cell. The screw was shouting "All away now. I have got to get home and get my dinner too!" and slowly he banged them all away and the chattering and calling subsided into the muffled sound of radios playing. I switched on my Roberts radio and Jimi Hendrix came on playing All Along the Water Front and I saw musical notes starting to float through the air and the bulb in the cell began pulsating to the beat. I was on my feet grooving, my whole body lifting and floating in the ecstasy of the music then as the piece ended the sound of Cream playing I'm on the Road Again . Someone had my LP collection and they were playing all my favourites. Now it was Velvet Underground. "Wow this acid is strong" went through my mind and I looked at the clock and it suddenly it moved an hour forward and the screw was unlocking for association.

I walked down to Franky's cell and knocked on the door and all these faces looked up at me a couple of new guys that I had not seen last night.

One one of them was shaking my hand "I am Hennie" he was saying in a Dutch accent.

"All is goed" I heard the words come from my mouth.

"Ja all is goed" smiled the beaming mustachioed face.

"Come on talk the Queens English" boomed Sims

I could not remember what I was going to say then in Dutch then the other guy who was full bearded with shoulder length hair said "I am Jimmy Tuttle. Twelve for jugs."

"Pleased to meet you Jimmy I said then a pipe was put into my hands and sitting down on the bed next to Sims and Hennie I began to smoke it. I was all ready on a big acid trip that was getting stronger and now oozing through my body. I felt it go right down to my toes amd I flexed them feeling pleasure as the acid coursed through my pipes. The smoke tasted punguent and peppery and I felt stoned on hash immediated at the first inhalation.

Bruce was speaking . "Who is going to start off the discussion tonight."

"Lets talk about birds we have fucked "Franky said loudly adding a big belly chuckle.

"Or cunts we have sucked" said someone"

"How about blow jobs received"

"Or arrises we have done"

"Or if our eyes are not two mirrors reflecting the world but are receiving as two inverted pictures of different focal lengths on the retinas that are hard wired to the visual cortex, reality as we see it is inside our heads and created by ourselves so what is the nature of the Truth" I heard my voice saying. Everyone was laughing and the visuals morphed into a swirl of flesh and features.

"I think that is an original philosophical observation Michael but the Truth is what you believe it to be" said Tony.

"The truth is what you know to be true, what you have seen to be true" Bruce said looking intently through his gold rim spectacles.

"No the truth is what you believe to be true. Supposing you look out of the window and see water droplets falling in a shower what do you believe is happening?" asked Dunford

"Its raining" Bruce said his face breaking into a smile.

"But perhaps someone is standing on the roof with a shower hose?"

"Yes one can create images that trick people into believing something is happening when it is not" I said.

"Oh fuck all this bollox" said Frank can't we discuss who has ever sucked a cock."

I was immediately aware of Dunford because he was openly homosexual and I looked at him and as I did so he looked at me and looking at his face I could experience his emotions and no words were necessary. He accepted the way certain people accepted him and his sexual orientation.

"I will tell you when I sucked a cock if somone goes first" I said an idea of great amusement made me smile as I had a flashback of myself in a cell, my feet under a table auto fellating.

Frank looked at me a smile on his face. It was a Lucy who had tits and all that. I mean she was fucking lovely, like a beatiful woman, anyway I had done a bit of bird and I was wanking myself silly when I met this Lucy. She came to my peter and and I started kissing her and feeling her tits, anyway we ended up in bed and she went down on me and I do love to suck a cunt so I forgot, you know stuck my head between Lucy's legs and began licking and sucking and it was a cock!"

Bruce said "And how long was you sucking for you dirty cunt. Next you will be telling us you thought that she had a big clitoris."Then he started to laugh and everyone else joned in a the pipe kept going round.

I realised that everyone was looking at me waiting to hear how I had sucked a cock. "Well I had done a bit of porridge and I was wanking every night after lights out, so I was looking down at my big dick and the way it reached my belly button when I thought of sucking myself off..."

There was a cacophony of shouts, whoops then cackles of laughter as I looked at Frank who realised my trick with a smirk on my face.

"You mean you sucked your own dick?" Alan said with a laugh.

"Yeah it is like a baby's arm"

"He had no toys when he was a kid"

"His mum used to pull him out of the cradle with it and eveyone was in fits of stoned laughter tears rolling down their faces.

"It is your genes Michael "Tony said you were meant to breed. Look I will give you a book to read that will interest you."

Bruce was giggling and trying to say something "Tell us about how....." then he burst into laughter unable to finish the sentence.

"Can I have a tissue Frank? I asked Sims.

"Yes take one out of the box" Frank said

I took one from the box and wiped a tear of laughter from my eyes.

Bruce was trying to speak "You had your feet under the table? And then you sucked ....." Bruce managed to gasp before cracking up into laughter again.

"I put my feet under the table and pressed my head between my legs and after a while I was able to suck myself off. Then the fucking screw turned on the light" I said remembering the embarrasment.

Everyone was laughing out loud now when the bell to bang up was rung "All away association over" called the screw."

We all started to get to our feet and I said "I went to have a piss the next morning and was shocked to find little spots all over my helmet until I realised that they were teeth marks that I had made the night before trying to reach my dick and keep it in my mouth." As I got out the sentence Bruce clloapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles which he could stop.

"Come on let's get this wedge out" Sims was saying "the screws are coming round" and he banged it out with a lump of lead that he used to shine his floor with a cloth wrapped around it. The door opened and the noise from the wing and the yellow spur lights flooded into the cell.

I wiped the tears of laughter as went out of the door and pulled my features back into a calm and controlled look.

Dunford was talking to me "Michael I will give you that book" and he went into his cell, came out and gave it to me.

"Thanks Tony" I said feeling vulnerable in the proximity of the giant who was smiling at me in a friendly way. He looked absolutely massive as I looked back and gave him a smile of thanks as he was stooping down to enter his cell.

I banged up the door and the trip really hit me and I looked at the book that Tony had given me The Superman by Nietsche it said and I opened the first page and began to read about the "Ubermensch" however I started to look at a picture of Nietsche, a photograph in the forward. His moustache was enormous and the I read that he may have died a virgin, then the words on the page dissolved into images of naked women who sang to me as I undressed and got into bed. It was just gone nine and cell doors were still banging the bangs became louder and louder as I hid terrified under the bedclothes until I was nearly swept onto the floor of my cell by a nuclear explosion. I saw the big mushroom cloud arise felt the terrible heat as the thermo nuclear wave flashed over turning the sky black then my body was vibrating , levitatingin the beam of white light that shone through the wall of the cell and I went up feet first through the wall escaping into the brightness of the white light.

I was walking through the warm water towards the lights of the village and people were dancing, sitting around a campfire. I walked into the middle and gave the fish that I was carrying to a woman who cooking over an open fire then I wandered onto the dance circle loosened my string and began to dance. Females stood around and watched and as I danced and exhibited my body I invited their glances and each time that I swirled my penis and testicles swung between my legs slapping against my thighs. I looked at girl that had just come from the children's village and who had just come to live among the tribe again showed me her breasts and vagina. I knew that she wanted to be with child again.

I went into her hut which was beautifully decorated and draped with coloured cloth. Candles flickered and incense filled the air as she knelt beside me and began to caress me. I closed my eyes and my head was filled with a soft pattern of pastel colours as her lips worshipped my phallus before guiding it inside the warm wetness of her vagina. She was on top of me and I could feel her warm body moving against me in a rhythmic movement that was in time with the drums I could hear from the dance outside. Her cunt tightened around my now massively engorged cock and milked out every drop of my seed as the world exploded into a thousand flashing lights and colours.

"When you go to the Roundhouse today there is a geezer named Phil and he will give you some hash to give to me. He is an old pal of mine and he sent a message over to say that he has got it for me. He will come into the artroom and give it to you" said Alan

"Okay Alan" I said knowing that the Roundhouse meant the college because of its unique architecture that was round instead of square. I was reading of Gropius and the Bauhaus at the time and I it flashed through my mind. The acid from the day before was still in my body. I had read a bit of Nietsche on the trip and the fact that the Nazi philosophers had used his philosophy of the Ubermensch to justify National Socialism in Germany, this was going through my mind as I walked through the passageway from Medway Wing to the Roundhouse. Then I saw Tabby standing his back to the wall and as I walked past he extended his hand and in it were seveal small pink tablets which I knew were Strawberry Fields. I shook my head and walked straight past because I was just coming down from a trip and I knew that you could only have a full trip every twenty eight days as the lysergic acid was a key that released all the serotonin in your brain. Tripping every full moon was perfect.

I sat in the classroom drinking a cup of coffee thoughtfully provided by Tabby but which this time did not contain any free acid and when he left the room I followed him to the toilet upstairs. When I entered he was in a cubicle a tell tale plume of blue cannabis smoke drifting out of the top.

I knocked on door with my knuckles "It is Muldoon, let me in." I said "

His frightened face appeared at the open door and I went inside with him. "Want a pipe?" he offered as he offered a little pipe made of a biro tube screwed into a brass pipe bowl. I knew that he had put acid in my coffee but said nothing but took the pipe he was offering to me.

He held the lighter to the hash as I inhaled deeply.

"Where do the tabs come from I said looking forcibly down on him as he sat poised on top of the waist height cistern.

"Sussex University he answered then went on "It's an experiment, something to do with intelligence. They have got all these criminal masterminds as guinea pigs."

"Who has?" I questioned Tabby.

"I think that it is something to do with the Americans who can't experiment in the States anymore and they came over to England."

I looked at him in amazement "Wow! That's heavy man" I exclaimed

He wanted to talk about it and went on "Look man I would not give you any shit. It is pure lysergic acid made by Sandoz you might as well enjoy it."

"How do you know all this I said.

"Mike I just happened to hear some people talking in the pub around here they were professors from the University at Sussex"

I was really interested in what Tabby had to say about experiments on prisoners especially about the Americans, probably the CIA were involved. We smoke together several times in the toilet sometimes in the evening it was warm now and we had the window open.

"Look you can see through the toilet windows there is the courts over there" Tabby said passing a loaded pipe to me.

I looked out of the window an could see a woman changing her clothes in the women's toilets "What is that, the court?" I asked.

"Yes Maidstone Crown Court, it is a joke, they can't see out but we can see in! I wonder who did the glazing?"

I stared at the young woman taking all her clothes off and putting on new ones. Perhaps she was going out as it was Friday afternoon. She was pulling up her knickers now, little black panties, wriggling to get into them and I felt my cock responding and knew that if Tabby was not in the cubicle with me then I would be wanking.

"So tell me more about the professors and what you overheard" I asked Tabby while I watched the woman opposite putting on high heel shoes. Then pulling up her skirt and looking down at herself, turning round inspecting the back. It was a little show especially for me.

"They kept talking about MK ULTRA and how the American guy running the experiment was a fucking madman. Anyway I got talking to them and when they got pissed they started to talk about the guy running the intelligence experiments. Evidently he had given kids and babies hallucinogenics I thought of all the lovely free drugs I could have and after a while they started to give me hallucinogenics, mainly LSD."

"Do you get flashbacks?" I asked Tabby.

"That's just propanganda man. I see visions and have total recall, you gain these powers by learning the knowledge contained in all the sacred plants. They call them flashbacks like they are brain damage" Tabby said calmly as if it was a matter of fact.

He was the typical Hippy and his prison jeans had been altered and flared. He wore a silver bracelet that ended with two balls leaving a small gap that exposed an inch of one's inner wrist, his long hair tied in a pony tail with a big beard and moustache. "Terry Matthews is the guinea pig today."

"What you mean Matthews was tabbed up with acid?" I asked realising that I had been the last guinea pig.

"Yeah we got to find out whether he can master the trip" he giggled

"Yes you have to discover what happens to different personalities when under the influence of LSD it having been administered surreptitiously" I said encouraging him.

"They the Americans think they can implant orders in a persons brain that they can activate at any time but I think that if everyone took acid on the full moon they would see the truth about the world they have created with half the world starving the other half getting fat. Yeah and the fucking wars man. Veitnam killing the indigenous population, Napalm look this Yank was out there spraying American troops with acid and broadcasting latent suggestions to them mixed in with pop music. He had helicopters flying over the battlefield man, spraying troops in combat.

"What happened then?" I asked wanting to know more.

"That is when the fragging started" Tabby looked at be wondering if I knew what "fragging" meant which I did not.

I just nodded and he went on "An NCO used to get a grenade go to the officers tent at night and throw in a grenade. It got so bad that it was because the deaths of young officers from West Point were so high that the intelligence services were put onto it. What it was, was when an officer emerged from West Point he wanted to prove himself a hero on the battlefield so that he would be admired back home."

While Tabby talked another girl came into one of the women's toilets and began changing her clothes. "I have my own private strip show here" I thought as I also took in what Tabby was saying.

"Anywaythe effect that the acid had on the troops was that they started to see that they were bein used as cannon fodder by people that they hated. They found Marijuana grew wild and started smoking every evening around the campfire and they started to avoid killing Vietnamese and instead fraternised with them. They would not just murder a new officer in cold blood they would try to educate him but if he insisted on on killing the Vietcong then he was fragged.

"I bet the CIA did not like that" I said.

"You say CIA but they just set up private companies and do straight business and you would not know unless the agent chose to tell you. They own TV stations and airlines. Most of them are ultra patriots who will do anything that they are ordered to do by the state. One came down to the pub a few times. He always used to get pissed and that talking."

"What are you in for?" I asked.

"Got an eight for dealing, really it was a fucking farce I stood up and took the rap, I kept this shut" Tabby pointed to his mouth.

"Didn't anyone try to help you, I mean what about the professors?" I asked.

"But I was dealing man! I was guilty as hell because I was sellng acid and marijuana by the ton and I was earning a fortune"Tabby said.

"So why are you giving it away now" I asked.

"I told you didn't I? I believe that it would be a better world if people absorbed the knowledge that is in the sacred plants!" Tabby said earnestly.

Bruce sat not moving, immobile like a statue, he was the perfect model for a portrait. We had just had a pipe and both of us were stoned. I looked at the canvas and I put some more grey into Bruce's wavy thick locks, "No sign of balding" I thought.

"What are you doing now, apart from painting" I mean.

"I am taking corresponence courses in English Literature, French and German because there are teachers at A level for those subjects" I said feeling proud of myself.

"Yes but you ought to concentrate on your painting" Bruce said.

"I do Bruce, I spend most of the time painting and drawing" I assured Bruce.

"Charlie and Roy want you to do pictureof their daughters" Bruce said.

"Portraits are much more auhentic if they are painted from life" I remarked

"Well they can't get over to here. I mean I can go anywhere with my job in the library"

Bruce had been sitting for over an hour and I was beginning to tire. "Bruce I think that we will finish now as you have lost concentration" I said.

Bruce hoisted his lanky frame to a standing position and walked stiffly over to the easel and stood admiring the developing likeness of himself. "Mmm its coming on. Am I really that distinguished looking?"

"You have a natural nobilty Bruce and I have captured it. Just another one or two sittings and it will be finished. Come lets go up the pool for a swim" I suggested..

"Okay right I'll get my towel and trunks. You know what you have nearly got the breaststroke off. He good the PTI, isn't he he will probably be up the pool too" Bruce replied.

We walked out of the Roundhouse on our way to the wings and there was no screw on the door. They did not even check the roll in the Roundhouse I had noticed. The wall was quite low and devoid of all razor wire or other anti escape devices. I mean it was a doddle getting away with a couple of hours start. But as I lay down on a towel by the edge of the wall I thought "Where would I go to? I would be on the run for the rest of my life, on the other hand it was so easy, run to the wall and climb a rope. You would just have to get someone to throw over a rope. Kenny would do it I knew."

"Hear! Did you hear about Terry Matthews?"

"No what happened" I asked wanting to know.

"Well the last thing we heard that he was being carried across the yard by two hospital screws" said Bruce looking at me through his blue tinted spectacles and giggling."He thought that they were taking him down the pub. What a laugh!"

"They fucking tabbed me up and it was only because I had tripped a lot outside that I could control it. I mean it is a bit strong isn't it?" I said.

Bruce giggled "Well Terry went on a right bummer. But he wanted it anyway."

"Well I didn't and I heard that he was tabbed up" I complained.

"No he knew that he was going to be tabbed but did not know when. He was boasting that he could handle anything and he is all right on dope" Bruce said.

"Hear did you hear about the civvy screw that was tabbed up in the engineering shop? Bruce giggled again.

"No. What happened?" I asked.

"He started flexing his muscles and came over to the lads saying "Look at this" with his sleeve rolled up and flexing his bicep like Charles Atlas. After a while he started to cry like a little girl and the screw sent him off sick. Later they said that he had a nervous breakdown!" Bruce said then jumping up "Look I am going to do a few laps. I'll be back in about twenty minutes. Why don't you practice the breast stroke?" Bruce said standing up and putting his trainers back on. Then he was off his long legs carrying his tall frame and I noticed that he had incredible muscular definition and one could see every muscle in his body.

I walked towards the diving board and running along I jumped on the end and did a swallow dive into the pool then coming to the surface I did the breaststroke until the end. I was trying to use my muscles but I was not getting the timing right yet. I stood up at he end and tried another length of the small pool, just reaching the end before clutching desperately to the safety rail, puffing and panting, out of breath.

I opened the cupboard and took out the empty powder paint tin and slid down the label until the little hole showed, then pulling the refill out of a ball point I stuck the tube into the little hole and put a little bit of hash on top of the holes made in the tin lid and holding a lighter over the top I inhaled. "Tony would be here for his sitting soon" I thought. I smoked a couple of more pipes that were small enough to be consumed in one hit and not one bit of smoke escaped being sucked into my lungs. My easel was set up and I squeezed some oil paint out onto my palette.

As the THC coursed through my body it made me want to stretch and as I was alone in the Art Room I started to exercise and take pleasure in the feeling. "There is no pain if you are doing good to your body, push into the sensation of pain and it becomes pleasure" flashed through my mind. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and the smiling face of Dunford looking through the glass panel of the door.

"Sit down and try to look at that painting over there on the wall. The walls were becoming covered now with my paintings and everytime I finished one I knocked two nails in the wall and hung the finished stretcher on them. The art room was becoming my territory because I spent more time in there than anywhere else and all my work hung there in a permanent exhibition.

Dunford sat on a chair facing my easel, his knees reached past mine by several inches and once again I felt dwarfed by his physical proportions and close proximity. I expect that everyone who ever met Tony would feel some of the emotions that I felt but despite his history of two seperate murders I felt no danger of him attacking me. In the gymnasium he could lift all the weight that one could get on the bar, he was a naturally strong super heavy weight. I felt that he was an incarnation of Nietsche's Ubermensch. I had read in the Old Testament about the two races on Earth, and about the aliens among us the Nephilim who were giants. I beleved that the Testaments illustrated that the Nephilim came from another planet.

"Can you turn your head slightly to the left Tony because you are wandering slightly" I said and he moved his head a little.

"When I get your proportions you can move around a little as long as you come back to the same spot" I said.

"All right" Tony answered answering with a lazy smile that spread across his features. He seemed eminently sensible and wise and was very polite and calm at all times. I dipped the brush into the palette and as the brush moved across the canvass and I communicated with Tony by transmitting and receiving. I realised that the image appearing on the canvas in front of me contained some of myself and the phrase "The observer is part of the observation" flashed through my brain. By the portraits from life that I had done I realised that the sitter comes under the power of the artist as one controlled their movements. Images of head restraints and devices flashed through my mind and I smiled to myself.

Stocker had told me that Tony's father had been speaking at a National Party meeting when a heckler started against his father's speech drowning out his words. Tony had been a steward and gone down into the crowd and tackled the heckler, killing him by accident in the process. It would be quite easy for Tony to kill someone I knew, it would be like an ordinary human with a rag doll. "Shaking someone too hard would be sufficint to break their necks" I thought. In prison Tony fell in love with another inmate and one day another prisoner began taunting him for being "a poof" and Tony dragged him into the cell and killed him as easy as wringing a chicken's neck. He was studying for an MA in philosophy now. Tony's subject matter had awakened an interest in philosophy in me too and I enjoyed reading some of his books and discussing various musings with Tony. The likeness was coming now and from this point I had to avoid altering the basic structure of what I had done. I like a sketchy loose feeling to a portrait one that captures the emotions as well as the exterior surface of the sitter.

"You can move around a bit now Tony, as long as you return to the same spot because I have captured your essence" I said.

"This emotion that you feel for another male do you think that it is love per se and unequivocally analogous to what I feel as a heterosexual for a woman?" I asked Tony. I was extremely interested in why Nature seemed to have programmed Dunford's genes to be destroyed so that his particular programme would not be around at the end of the voyage in Heaven on Earth.

"Yes I felt a deep love for certain men I have met in my life" Tony answered his eyes fixed on my flowerpiece hanging just in front of him.

"Would you kill to protect your loved one from evil? Even at the risk of your own life?" I asked.

"Yes" I would Tony said confirming what I already knew to be the answer.

"Was in Nature or Nurture, or a bit of both? That was the question" my mind was full of these thoughts now."

"What determines Nurture or Nature?" I put my thoughts to Tony.

"Nature predominantly and this has been proved by research into identical twins. You can get the book from Bruce it is in the library" Dunford then was silent his eyes fixed once again on the flowerpiece. I had on prescription several magazines, one being Artscribe, the others being the British Journal of Photography and Mens Magazines. I was reading about Conceptualism and artists that did not paint. Flowerpieces were "bourgeoise" and "decorative" another derogatory word in Artscribe.

"Do you like the flowerpiece Tony" I said.

"Yes it is beautiful and I see images within the actual overt subject matter" Tony said smiling as he described what he saw.

"Would you like a painting to hang in your cell?" I asked Tony.

"Yes very much so" he answered.

We walked back to the wing together Tony carrying the flowerpiece. It was tea time, the evening meal would be served soon and we would go into the dining hall to eat. We lined up for a meal Tony carrying the painting. We drew our meal and sat down at the table at which Stocker was already seated, Tony propping up the flowerpiece on an empty chair.

"All right Alan" I greeted him.

Alan looked up and smiled "Yes all right."

I saw several cons look at the painting as they passed and one said "Not bad!" and Tony smiled at me.

Most people liked photographic realism so it was easy to please them with the copy of a photo I had found but I had stopped copying now except for portraits from photos, that were always in demand!

Most people that drew or painted were copyists I knew that but there was another convict who painted from life in the wing. His work was full of an symbolism that he was not aware of! He did a still life of a bottle with two apples at its base that was obviously phallic but when I pointed this out to him he became annoyed. I realised from this experience that the symbolic images had been produced by sexual desire and were born of the subconscience.

That night we were all in the cell again the wedge banged under the door and the pipe went around and soon I had the feeling again that the cell had taken off into space and that we were hurtling through space. Every night now without a break for the past year I had been smoking strong hashish then we would recount our experiences to one another.

Hennie the Dutchman was speaking " We are called the Brotherhood of Eternal Light. I bought guns in Amsterdam lots of them and ammunition we would load up the boat and sail to Afganistan, there we would off load onto donkeys taking the arms to meet the Freedom Fighters and exchange for cannibis resin." He had florid features with a Germanic looking face with a slightly bulbous nose and thick brown hair which he had a habit of passing his fingers through, as he was doing now and a thick moustache which he stroked. "They confiscated my yacht" he said sadly.

"Well what the fuck do you expect with five tons of hash on board?" Bruce said derisively. "Bound for Great Britain to corrupt the law abiding British Public" cracked Bruce and everyone started laughing.

"The American black muslims only got five for using a government airplane when they were in the Airforce. I think that is a lot worse and they also had a lot more hash than I did" Hennie complained.

I played basketball with the black bomber crew, they were in the United States Basketball League and sometimes played Americans from British Airbases in the prison gym. I thought that their case and the fact that they had flown over from England to Spain where they loaded up with tons of cannabis amusing, "a good plot for a film" I thought.

"No come on Hennie! You are a gun runner and a hash dealer and you had been British you would have got a ten!" said Bruce.

The Visiting Hall was crowded and I looked around while waiting for my Mum and Dad to arrive. They had started to come now that Sandra was not coming to see me any more. I recognised faces from the portraits that I had painted and I spotted Hennie at a table with his parents and teenage blonde daughter. Yes I had achieved a good likeness and she was a typical Dutch girl with a snub nose, blue eyes and blonde hair. The Dutch it seemed were the tallest people in the world, or was it just Amsterdammers? I remembered when I was there in the Sixties and standing in a bar on the Leidseplein I had realised that everyone else in the bar towered above me. I studied Hennie's face and he was exactly how I saw him in the painting I was working on at the moment. Sometimes I did not recognise the subjects that I had painted from photos; the photo had not really been a good likeness. Girls liked to look as pretty as possible in their portraits, "Oh yes there was a girl that I was painting at the moment, she was the sister of the guy that did not want to go out! He said that he" was not ready yet and had evidently refused a discharge. His sister was turning around smiling at me and, the prisoner was waving and his mother too" I waved back stroking my beard and smiled. I knew that prison had given me a unique insight as what it was like to be a painter before the invention of photography in around circa 1860. Photography was not allowed in the inside of the prison and was prohibited under the Official Secrets Act. Anyone that wanted a likeness of there self came to me and I was already getting commissions from those outside. If I had wanted "I could have built a camera obscura and captured still lives photographically but I was now loosening up, I knew, and because my favourite painters were the French Impressionists They were around about the same time as photography began to challenge the painters .I often found that sketching in oil often produced the "accident" that resulted from the act of painting per se." the thoughtd were going through my head. I was tranced out and had just had a few pipes of hash before going on the visit. Here they were just entering the large visiting hall which was about fifty times larger than the one in Parkhurst. Maidstone was a much easier place than Parkhurst. "There are prisons and prisons and this was a very easy one as prisons went.

I got up to greet my Mum and Dad and gave my Mum a cuddle and a big kiss on the cheek” Hello Mum" I said.

Then I shook hands with and embraced my Father.

"Hello Dad. All right “I asked.

"My Dad smiled his false teeth too even and white. I'll get some snacks up at the bar. We have brought you some things" he said smiling then turning on his heel he walked up to the WRVS canteen and joined the queue of visitors queuing to by sweets, chocolates, cakes, crisps and sandwiches and the ubiquitous cups of tea served out by retired, genteel, ladies who sometimes told pushy visitors that they were volunteers.

"How have you been? You look very skinny Michael and your face is drawn in" said my Mum a look of concern on her face. I noticed that she wore the matched Amethyst and Diamond earrings that I had bought from Brian Goldstein.

"Your earrings look nice Mum. Mum I am eleven and a half, middleweight and fit as a fiddle. I am swimming, weightlifting and starting to run again" I said.

"Do they feed you properly?

"Yes Mum I eat really good food and I buy extras in the canteen and get other stuff from the Officer's Mess as well. No Mum I have never been so fit in my life" I said smiling.

My Mum looked at me the concerned look still on her face "Well I think your face should be a bit fatter" she said.

"He looks fit to me” said my Dad putting a tray loaded with chocolate, biscuits and tea on the plastic topped table and sitting down on a tubular metal chair with curved plywood seat and back. The metals tubes were painted a leaf green that contrasted with the brown wood. They were the same chairs that we had in the Roundhouse.

My Dad took a beaker of orange juice off the tray and my Mum opened her handbag and pulling out a half bottle of vodka she surreptitiously poured some into it and handed it to me "Here you are Michael" she said.

I swallowed some of the vodka and orange and it warmed my throat as I consumed it. I chose vodka because it was said not to smell. My Dad was drinking some too and suddenly he turned to me.

"Mickey I have got to stop the business" he said.

I looked at him incredulous for a second "What after I kept schtum, I have got a licence" I exclaimed in protest.

"There is a big corruption thing going on and I think that everything is stopping for a bit until it all blows over. Jimmy Humphreys has grassed up Commander Drury, you know you met him once Ken?"

I remembered passing a pipe smoking detective in Scotland Yard and knew that was him. "Only for a minute" I replied. I remembered Drury saying "Hell Michael. Everything all right" and that had been it. "Fucking grass. See those old squares trusted him! What a laugh, a cardboard gangster. I knocked out his old man and he sent Nosher Powell round to seek me out. What a fucking coward" I said angrily. "Nosher Powell!”

"Oh sorry Mum" I said seeing her reaction when I swore. She did not like swearing.

"Look Dad they can't just tell you to stop just like that" I said.

"Everyone going to pretend that it is all cleaned up, lots of publicity in the papers then after a few years it will all come back, bigger than ever. Moody is nicked and so is Alton and dozens of other officers are under suspension" my Dad said.

My brain took in the situation and I said "Well if the shops close then you can run a mailing list again. I have got thousands of names and if the shops are not open you will still be earning. Look I'll design a brochure and give it to you on the next visit."

Back in my cell I thought of the rat like Humphreys and wondered how a person like Drury could have become so friendly with him. Sandra knew Rusty the stripper, his wife. A picture of Humphries strutting through Walkers Court came into my mind. It was a wonder that Humphries was still alive and walking around obviously those "above" had decided that he should stay alive and allowed to give evidence against Scotland Yard officers. I suspected that a big power struggle was going on for the highly lucrative porn trade. It was going to be re organised but I knew that whatever happened that I would always be able to make a good living from it. I liked doing it because it was creative and sexual and what most guys would like to do if we knew the truth. I had read in Playboy that it was a male’s most common fantasy. I flicked through glossy magazines looking at the airbrushed models. It did not really turn me on but the pictures were pleasant to look at and I liked to read some of the stories, articles and letters in the magazine. Hugh Hefner was a politically active entrepreneur whose political philosophy I admired and he was not afraid to print letters from prisoners or to highlight injustices in the legal system.

I picked up another magazine and looked through it. I knew the guy who published it Ben Holloway and had sold him stories and illustrations in the past. He liked SM and spanking themes and his publications required a high degree of literacy and quality. His books were professionally printed and were of the highest quality the type that serious collectors of erotica purchased. I started to read one of the spanking stories and my cock started to get hard. I wanted to wank and I wanted a smoke. I got out of bed and sprinkled some talcum powder around the cell door then getting out my pipe I had several pipes holding in the smoke until my lungs were bursting, pushing down my chin onto my upper sternum, locking in the pungent mixture of smoke and air before letting it out in one long exhalation, which because of the time that I had held it in was practically colourless.

I turned the pages of the magazine and came to a story which I had written. I looked at my name printed at the top of the page. The illustration I had done of the girl her white knickers pulled down just to the bottom of her vaginal slit, her knickers folded down like a tight band around her thighs, constricting her in bondage, in the background stood a male gym slipper in his hand. Spanked was based on a true experience, I knew because I had written it. Sometimes I wrote stories for pleasure with illustrations and then gave them to Rita and Doreen to read before selling them to Ben Holloway from Acton.

The screw was coming around turning off the lights. "Flick" the spy hole went up and an eye peered through then turned off the light a the ticking noise as the spy hole flap swung until it reached the bottom and was still.

I remember writing about the time Rita and Doreen had told me about the time that they had let their driving instructor spank them.

Rita turned to me her swollen bee’s stung lips parting in a wide smile that showed her perfect large healthy teeth. She had worn a brace when she was younger. He pulled down our knickers and spanked our bums" she said putting her hand up to her lips and giggling along with her friend Doreen. They had just returned from playing tennis and were showing lots of thigh and giving me flashes of their white cotton knickers.

I knew that they wanted me to spank them. "Dirty old pervert. You did not suck him off after or let him fuck you?" I said giving both of them a look that aid that I was sexually excited and wanted sex.

Rita's parents bedroom was large an airy and both girls stood by the bed. "Pull up your skirts. I am going to give you a good spanking, both of you, for letting a dirty old man spank and fondle your buttocks. Now pull your knickers down half way and bend over on that bed." I said.

Both Rita and Doreen were blonde and beautiful and my cock was so hard I could hardly release it from my tight jeans. I looked at the two ivory gleaming orbs of flesh and began running my hands over them both and doing so could feel the responsive trembles. Looking at their swollen vaginal lips I could see that they were both wet and shiny with love juice. I raised my hand a brought it down upon Rita's flawless, healthy looking buttocks and saw the red imprint quickly turning the white to pink. Then I slapped Doreen pushing down her waist so that I could see her cunt. I smacked her around her anus and cunt, and then pushed my finger into the wetness. I spanked Rita with the other hand then said to Doreen. “I am going to fuck you now" I said.

I pushed my rigid cock into Doreen and she gasped with pleasure. "Yes fuck me hard you dirty bastard" then pushed herself hard back against my cock. I fucked Doreen hard for ten minutes until she was red in the face and ready to come then I pulled out and pushed my cock still wet from Doreen and began fucking her while pushing five fingers into Doreen's cunt, keeping her writhing against my fingers until Rita started to writhe in orgasm.

"Get up both of you and kneel on the floor" I said and they looked at my big swollen cock as they got up. "Get all your clothes off, except your shoes and socks" I ordered and as thy undressed I noticed that their buttocks were red.

I looked down at the naked girls who both had swollen firm breasts of ample dimensions and said "Hold up your tits. Now suck my big dick" Then I fucked their mouths, pulling my cock out with a popping noise and shoving it into the others, going from one to the other, holding their heads in between my hands, fucking their mouth's hard until I shot my semen in long spurts all over their smiling faces and breasts offered up in worship of

the phallus. This episode had inspired me to write Spanked and now a copy of it lay beside me on a chair as I wanked and felt myself come all over my stomach as I replayed the scene in my brain.

I always liked writing stories" I thought as I lay their in the dark.

The Governor was walking around the small garden next to the Roundhouse. I went over to him "Good Morning Sir! Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Yes it is" said the Governor smiling.

Tabby had told me that he was a Marxist and that is why Maidstone was a holiday camp. He believed in co operation to achieve great things on Earth and not competition. Well it certainly seemed to be working.

I walked over to him and smiling addressed him. "Sir I am a painter and am on full time education in the Roundhouse. I want to take a degree in Fine Art but I am told that it is not allowed and that only academic subjects can be taken. I have fourteen GCEs now four at A level, French, German, English Literature and Art. I have got some of my work in the Roundhouse Art Room if you would care to see them."

The governor walked around the Art room like a spectator at a Private Viewing "Mmm yes. I think that you do have great talent but one has to get official approval from the Home Office. First of all come and see me on application and apply for a Petition to the Home Secretay. It has all got to be official you see."

I waited outside with other prisoners who had made an application to see the governorI walked into the governor's office when the Chief called out my name "Muldoon"

I stood in front of the Governor's desk "I would like to Petition the Home Secetary" I said to the Governor,

The Chief looked at me in surprise because petitions to the Home Secretary were rare. He cleared his throat with a rasping sound that was a comment not needing words.

"Yes permission granted. The landing officer will give you the petition later this evening" the Governor said laying down his pen.

A couple of months later

Mrs Keen called me into her office in the Roundhouse "Muldoon. I have a letter here from the Home Secretary. It is about your petition to be allowed to take a BA Fine Art degree. What he says is yes as long as the local art college send in their Head of Painting to look at your work and he approves it."

I thought "I hope he is not one of these guys who were saying that the idea was more important than skill in producing an object such as a painting. "Down in the Gallery in London town, an artist does a painting showing nothing at all, in the galleries down in London Town" the Dire Straights lyrics echoed through my brain.

The Head of painting was coming today and was excited.

"Muldoon" it was Mrs Keen calling me from the office. "Two lecturers from Maidstone College have arrived at the gate and they have just rung me up saying should they let in Mr Kaine because he is dressed like a hippy!"They are coming over."

Here they were now walking down the passage towards the Art Room and pushing open the door. One guy had a bald head on top but with long hair down to shoulders, wearing baggy shorts held up with a belt with a large brass buckle on the front saying "Super Kaine" and wearing Jesus type sandals held out his hand. His hand was limp and submissive and if I was a brute I would have crushed it. Some men try to do this shake your hand and crush it if your reactions are not quick enough. I gave Super Kaine's hand a soft squeezing shake.

Super Kane looked at me "I am Super Kaine head of Painting at Maidstone and this is John Bradford a Senior Lecturer.

Bradford shook hands but exerted some pressure "Pleased to meet you" he said.

"Please call me Michael" I said to both of them trying to be polite and civilised not a dangerous killer that my conviction for murder had branded me. They knew about my conviction that was for sure. "No wonder the NF screw on the gate had freaked out over Super Kaine because he was the stereo type of the eccentric artist and to them "a hippy" and could not be the Principal of a college. I smiled to myself as they both started to study my work. Bradford dressed like most guys of the Seventie, jeans and a jumper. They both stopped in front of a full length portrait of a prisoner. I did not know him as Mrs Keen had arranged for models to be sent over to me in the Art Room. When I had sat for me I picked up some heavy vibes and this had elongated his body, stretching his long acne scarred,bony face. He had a plastic prison tea mug on the table in front of him and a tobacco tin. I had used an acid green colour in the background. I knew that it was a powerful original work.

They looked at each other and smiled then turning to me Super Kaine said "Yes we like your work Michael and I shall say yes" he said smiling his red face with the eccentric hair sticking out was beaming.

I was filled with joy and I spontaneously hugged Super Kaine and pumped his hand.

They came back a few days later with rolls of canvas a huge plastic containers of the new acrylic paint as well as plenty of oils and now that I was on a degree course in Fine Art I could paint all day long although I was now reading French and German to improve my grasp of these languages. I was reading Les Miserables by Victor Hugo in French and enjoying it. I discovered that Hugo was multi disiciplinary and a visual artist as well. Every week day now was the same I came to the Art Room had a smoke of hash and then painted. Back in my cell I had hung paintings on the wall and sat engaging with them in long mediational sessions where the paintings throbbed and pulsed with energy and drew me into them.

I read about the Club de Haschishens in 19th century Paris and studied the paintings and drawings of the members in the large hardback art books on the History of Art that the college had delivered. Now that I had decided to take a degree I had access to all the books I wanted now from Maidstone Art College as well as all the art materials that I could possibly need. I started to make some large paintings as the college had sent me in, what seemed to me, some really big stretchers, much bigger than the usual size that I had used in the past.

Acrylic was a water based medium and the Spectrum Colours were pure pigment, mixer with PVA and Base one could achieve any effect or surface desired. At first I used the acrylics on an easel but the big ones would not fit, and sometimes the liquid paint ran down the canvas so I started painting on the floor using very liquid paint. I was painting three or canvases at once in sets and I was prolific. I handed them out on visits to my parents who were storing them the room that they had always kept for me even after I had left home.

Life was good and I was stoned all the time. Every full moon a tab of 300 to 400 grams of LSD and hash every day. Alan and I had started to smoke some hash before breakfast now because we liked to be in an enlightened state of mind as soon as we had to mix with the general prison population. It was heavy out that we knew with a lot of heavy guys . Alan would make up a pipe out of a sheet of paper with a small piece of aluminium foil on which we smoked four five pipes of Black Indian hash, one smoking while the other kept watch.

I stood behind the door inhaling the pungent smoke, holding the gas lighter on the small piece of hash until it glowed red and was consumed. "Right, Ready"I said and we emerged from Alan's cell into the wing then downstairs to the dining hall to eat our breakfast.

"Alan why don't you start painting" I said as I spooned beans into my mouth and cut off a bit of sausage and sipped at the pint mug of tea. "I'll give you some materials."

Plender looked at me and said "Why do you always tell people that you have four A s when you have only got two?"

I stared at him in surprise as I rembered Mrs Keen saying something to me about my qualifications which I did not understand at the time. "I have got four A level passes" I said squeezing the brushes and metal palette knife I held in my hand.

Suddenly Plender's face assumed a horrified expression and I realised that he was loking at the palette knife which to him could look as if the palette knife was hidden in between the brushes. Classical paranoia symptoms which I recognised from cannabisespecially as a novice puffer. The difference being that while on cannabis I always knew that danger was only a high state of alert and warning one what could happen by imagery. The world became the future the past and the present experienced simultaneously. It was the highest survival state I knew that but the difference here was that Plender was paranoid because he was visualising me stabbing him to death over a trivial matter such as qualifications and he was not on anything except a cup of Nescafe.

I walked away from him and went staright up to Mrs Keen's office and tapped on the door.

"Come in " said Mrs Keen friendly maternal voice tinged with a slight Scottish accent.

"Mrs Keen Mr Plender is under the impression that I am lying about having four passes at A level" I said looking at her for support.

"Yes I am glad that you mention it because others have mentioned it too, becauses it says two on your record" Mrs Keen said.

I blushed with embarrassment as the oblique remarks people had made to me in the past, teachers and lecturers from the Art College must have all thought that I was a liar. I realised I was lucky to get into Maidstone Art College.

"We will go over to the reception, open the safe and get a copy of your A level Certificates" said Mrs Keen.

As she spoke I saw that a clerk who worked for Mrs Keen looking uncomfortable and I realised that it was him who had made a mistake in my records.

The safe was opened and the certificates taken out. Here they were four A level passes! It was great. I confronted Plender and I said to him "What chance have I got of convincing any middle class guy like you that I am not a dangerous killer who would stab you to death over any little thing?" I realised what a good job the News of the World had done in demonising me.

Plender looked shamefaced and said "Forgive me.

Mrs Keen was retiring and became known as Mrs Keen MBE as she was given the honour. I was very pleased for her as she had helped me so much but I wondered who would run the Roundhose now.

continued. January 21, 2008

Tony Cuenco walked out of his cell babbling incoherently. I halted in my tracks on my way up to the end cell on the right where the chaps were meeting this evening. I halted because Tony had smashed one of the big glass mirrors in half and was holding one half in two hands in front of him then suddenly he slashed his throat with the sharp jagged edge. A jet of crimson blood splattered the passage wall running down it in little rivulets while Tony slid to the floor unconscious then the alarm bells started ringing and the excited shouts of prisoners "It is Cuenco Guv, he has slashed his throat."

A stretcher arrived with a white jacketed screw from the hospital, a pressure pad was applied then a torniquet and Tony wounded by himself was carried over to the hospital. A mirror could kill you but the neck is tough and sinewy and Tony was lucky. I walked up to the end cell and the chaps were all there talking excitedly about the Cuenco attempted suicide.

A co out of the Officers mess Nobby was saying "If he really wanted to top himself, why come outside in the passage?"

"It certainly looked like a real attempt to kill and not just a cry for help to me" I said.

"No, if he had come over to the mess me I could have lent him a proper knife a real sharp one" Nobby said with an impish grin on his face. He kept the chaps supplied with cuts of steak from the officers mess and he was paid with tobacco and hash.

Everyone laughed but really it had been shocking because another prisoner had cracked up and tried to top himself. He was living in the same environment as us but we had overcome our predicaments to a large extent and our association and smoking marijuana played an important part in coping I thought.

The pipemaker was banging the wedge under the door as we all settled down sitting on the floor, chairs or bed. I liked to sit on Franky's bed with my back against the wall with my legs folded, not in a full Lotus because it made my joints ache but in a half Lotus, keeping my back straight and my hands on my knees. I would close my eyes and meditate like this in my cell entering inner space instead of like now when we would talk and laugh together with a red light on.

Danny the Rasta was in the cell tonight but he did not come every night like me and the other guys but just now and again. For him the plant was sacred and he smoked it reverently, sitting in a full Lotus on the floor the exhaled smoke coming from his nose in two plumes which then dissolved and filled the room with cannabis smoke.One would get stoned by just being in this cell and breathing. The pipe maker handed me the loaded pipe now and I applied the lighter to it and first exhaling then applying the flame to the small piece of black hash on the pipe until it turned into a cinder while inhaling all the smoke and keeping it in my lungs then releasing it slowly out through my nostrils.

"So you reckon that he was really going to top himself? " Frank Samways said.

"Oh don't lets talk about suicide all fucking night. None of us is going to top himself" Bruce said.

Durkheim's theory of suicide went through my head "Do you now that as many people kill themselves when they become rich as when they become poor!" I said.

Everyone started to laugh and then Stocker said "I'm not having that"

Sims joined in with "That's a right load of old bollocks" and then started to laugh. "No I'm not having that , a right load of bollocks" he repeated.

"Durkheim's Theory of Suicide. Yes I have read it and that is what it says" confirmed Dunford.

"But why is a geezer who gets a load of dosh going to top himself" asked Tuttle.

"It is to do with expectations. Because the best things in life are free, or should be and money does not bring love, or happiness which are not material but emotions. It is the realisation that the corollary of suddenly acquiring wealth is not happiness and it is this that invites suicide" I said.

"Speak proper English Mickey, it's like you swallowed a fucking dictionary" the Dutch man said.

"Sorry Hennie" I said but I noticed that no one else was saying that they did not know what corollary meant and I knew that the uneducated were impressed by the use of "long words" which they did not understand. The only other person that understood what corollary meant was Dunford. The same went for books like Das Kapital where I struggled to to understand "Dialectical Materialism" and realised that a working class person of the nineteenth century would not have had a clue, then I discovered that hypothisis, anthisisis and synthesis had their roots in Ancient Greece, who was it now? Aristotle Plato and Socrates came to my mind.

"Well what the fuck do you mean Englishman?" joked Hennie smilng.

"He means that suddenly acquiring wealth does not immediately solves one worldly problems." Dunford explained.

"Yes like the Shah of Persia running around the world with a million dollars in a suitcase to find a cure for cancer" I said.

"Hear! can't we talk about something else than suicide and things. It's freaking me out" Tuttle complained.

The pipe had come around again and I smoked it even though I was already starting to trip out on THC and I had the sensation again that the cell was taking off.

The bell was ringing signalling that association and it was time to go back to our cells and get locked up for the night.

Back in my cell images of Cuenco slashing his neck kept entering my mind and I fell into a fitful sleep. Suddenly I awoke in the middle of the night, it was freezing cold, was paralysed while feeling a huge serpent lying on top of me. I was terrified and unable to move as it slowered slithered over me and across my face. Then it was gone and I was wide awake and afraid.

The teacher was writing on the board "Engels" and then " Workers of the World throw off your chains and Unite." "This a simple slogan that people understand and can remember" he was saying. It seemed to me from my experiences so far all teachers and teachings were left wing. Really I had been apolitical in the Sixties but if I had voted I would have voted Conservative like my Father always did. What I liked about the Left was its romantic attachment to revolution and I knew that I wanted a revolution more than anything else so I started to read about Marx, Lenin, Bakunin and Trotsky and Che Guavera. I was like a student at University just discovering an exciting new game of life. With political struggle one could change the society that you did not like into the society that you did like. A communist was a rebel against the old class system and the more I read the more the more my sympathies moved to the left.

The years were rolling by now and there was a new prison wing being built in the grounds of Maidstone and the grapevine said that we were all being moved into it.

"Yes this wing is going to be a nonse's wing" Alan said.

This proved true and one day we moved into the new wing in one big exodus carring our few worldly possessions in pillow cases or on food trolleys. The New Wing" as it would become known to prisoners was built in the traditional way with open landings with five floors. The old wing Medway was different with "Spurs" instead of landings. Stocker and I found cells near one another or the fives. Stocker had the end cell, which was a securiy advantage because one had a warning before anyone could come up the iron staircases which rattled and could travel along the slate landing until he reached the end cell. Danny the Rasta was the next cell in between Alan and I and a Canadian, Cathell who was in for drug smuggling was fourth from the end.

I was thinking of becoming a vegetarian and did so making an official application to the governor for a change of diet. He asked me why and I replied for ethical and health reasons. I still ate fish and got extra items like fruit, yoghurt and cheese in lieue of meat.

"Evan Philips has gone Queens Evidence the same as Humprey's" my Father said on the visit.

I looked at him in disbelief but knew that Evan was a soft middle class boy who probably had been badly frightened and who was trying to save his own neck. "I told them, didn't I. That they were trusting the wrong people I remember the day up in the new man's office at The Yard when I had said to him. You may think that sometimes I have acted stupidly but I have not got a yellow streak down my back and can keep my mouth shut, you know when he told me that the policw were no longer going to give me protection. I had been thinking of Evan at the time" I said. .

"What he is going to give evidence for the Queen?" my Mum said.

"No he is going to give evidence against the police." explained my Dad.

"Well if all the shops close down then there is going to be a big market for mail order" I observed.

"I think Dad should do what the police say and not do anything!" exclaimed my Mum.

I laughed and knew that my Dad would do just that probably because he was a straight goer at heart and had only got involved with porn and kept my business ticking over because it seemed legal with the police giving one permission with a licence.

"Well I 'll never give up" I said with conviction.

The Lambrianiou brothers moved in but the chaps "never had it with them" and they were never invited to the smoking club which was down on the fours in the New Wing in Franky Sim's cell. Charlie Richardson was on the wing to and as they were mortal enemies everyone knew that there would be a war between the sworn enemies. Charlie Richardson was a quiet man who kept to himself and was to be seen always with a broadsheet under his arm, the typical businessman into stocks and shares. He had been called a "gangster by the media" but he certainly acted like a gentleman. The Lambrinianous were brothers but not friends and hardly shared each others company but allies in the time of battle. Everyone knew they would attack Charlie, but not when, and The Lambrianiou attack came one day when Charlie was standing in the dinner queue. His usual practice was to read the paper as he stood waiting. The two Kray henchmen had noticed this and this is when they chose to attack. The took two metal trays from the hotplate then walking past Charlie they walked about twelve feet, then turning they charged, swinging the trays as they ran. Chalie saw them coming and ducked the sharp edges while throwing a couple of right handers to help them on their way. One of them then pulled a churn of hot soup from the hotplate and ran towards Charlie and attempted to throw the steaming hot soup over him but slipped up in the soup that had poured out onto the pasageway and fell arse over tit landing in the sticky mess. I mean it was a comedy that no slapstick filmmaker could ever make funnier. To keep their image as gangsters the brothers had to make an attack and even if it turned out a farce an uneasy truce usually followed. as it did in this case, but it was understood that if they ever met again "outside" the battle was on again. I remembered walking into the El Morocco that day in Soho and seeing the aftermath of the battle between the Krays and the South London gangs, said to include Frankie Frazer who fired lots of shots at the Twins. It was like Chicago in the Twenties and these guys were living out the fantasy of the films they had watched as kids where they identified with the gangsters of the period and not with the "good guys." In Soho their stereotypes were still crowding the clubs owned by other gangsters. They wore long coats, three piece suits and some even the hats and accentuated the gangster look with lots of flash jewellery. Walking around a bullet holed table the guide, another one of the West End chaps, proudly gave me a guided tour of the battlefield in last night's turf war I would be one of the reporters and soon the whole Underworld would know of the gun battle that had taken place in the El Morrocco that night before it was deliberately leaked to the press with the purpose of creating fear.The Krays had been experts in using the media to their own ends and I knew they had a licence and were paying into the Office like I was. Coppers and gangsters are usually working class and come from the same tough neighbourhoods and often know each other and have much in common except the pay. Working class morality did not think that it was a serious crime if gangsters stuck to the code of honour and only killed each other and were not victims themselves and the police don't really care if one gangsters killed another one because it did not threaten them. Of course the police had to investigate all muders but while everyone in the Underworld knew the next day when one of them was killed or wounded, the police never seemed to solve the crime!

Franky Samways inhaled the pipe and said "Are you going to make us the Christmas drink then Mick?"

Sims joined in "Yeah go on Mick we will get you all the gear."

But don't you get stoned enough on the hash? I asked.

"Yeah but its not the same and I like a drink" said Samways.

"Yeah and get fucking pissed" said Tuttle looking at me wanting me to make alcohol.

"Okay I want a thermometer, grain or fruit and sugar and some brewers yeast. But I am not going to drink any " I answered.

"Ain't the gear in the kitchen any good, the baker's yeast I mean" Tuttle asked.

"Well it will ferment and produce alcohol but I need brewer's yeast if you want the proper stuff" I said.

Frank smuggled the brewer's yeast in and the fruit apples were nicked from the officers mess. I heated the apple mash and sugar and let it cool to blood temperature then put in the yeast. I then bottled it in sterilised empty one gallon empty detergent containers with small holes pierced in the tops. Then panels were unscrewed in the recess, using a special tool made in one of the workshops, and the containers lowered and tied to the pipes. It was two months to Christmas and I knew that the brew would be ready by then.

Paddy on the garden party also decided to make some hooch and he used baker's yeast acquired from the kitchen and buried the containers in the gardens. One night we were awakened by explosions and looking out of the window one could see a large hole blown in the ground. The screws arrived with dogs and torches and as they were looking at the crater another explosion occured sending them scattering,

"It is the IRA mortaring the prison" shouted someone.

After a while it was discovered that a plastic container that had been blown apart smelt of alcohol. Paddy got nicked for making hooch and lost a weeks pay!

Christmas time came around again and the containers were brought up Christmas Eve and everyone except me and Tony Dunford got pissed. He had one glass and I tasted the brew which tasted like apple wine about 14 per cent alcohol.

Everyone including myself shouted. "Come on Alan tell us how you used to rob the banks, the modus operandi" Bruce said.

Alan looked a bit bashful then started speaking slowly, his eye lids droopy after the effects of the apple wine combined with ten pipes of Nepalese. "We used to go on spec cruising the High Street until we spotted a likely jug." He started to remember then continued "Yes first of all we would dress as workmen in overalls and drive to one side of a Jacob's ladder near my house then me and the Colonel would walk across and get into the motor we had nicked and parked on the other side then we would just drive down the high street until we fancied a jug then we would pull up outside and leave the motor running." He paused then filled his lungs with air his eyelids opening and beginning to sparkle.

The cell was silent as everyone hung on Alan's words.

"Then we would steam in the front door and the Colonel would fire a shot into the ceiling screaming "Everone get down on the floor and don't look up unless you want your fucking heads blown off". He paused and looked at us all. "I mean we never hurt anyone and the guns were only used for frighteners. Do you know what I mean like?"

We all nodded our heads and made assenting noises because everyone wanted Alan to get on with the exciting story.

"I would take a loaded Smith and Wesson out of a bag and the Colonel would smash a big hole through the cashier's window with a sledge hammer and I would leap through and if they had shut the tills I would blow them open with a shot, then I would take all the money out and stuff it in the bag. We were in and out in less than two minutes. Then we would drive to the Jcob's ladder and run over it and et back in the Transit" Alan said.

"Fucking hell how often did you do one of those?" Tuttle asked.

"Whenever we ran out of money" Stocker answered laughing a then continuing. "We ran out of money one day and I went down the cellar to have another look and found another ten grand in a sack" he laughed at the memory.

We all laughed with him and Bruce said "How about Frank? Robbing banks dressed as a woman!

Everyone shouted "Come on Frank" and the cell sounded and smelt like a Dutch pub where I used to go in the Sixties that allowed hash smoking as well as drinking.

Everyone looked at Frank and as he started to speak we all became quiet.

"The missus would get me all dressed up in her clothes and give me a lift to the high street with a pram with a doll inside. Then I would go into the bank with the pram and when it came for me to be served I got the doll wrapped in a shawl with the shot gun inside then go to the counter and pass the bank teller a note that said "Give me all the big notes out of your till. put them in an envelope and pass them to me. If you don't I will blow your fucking head off with the shotgun that is now pointing at you. Don't set off the alarm until I have left the bank." Frank laughed and we all laughed too at his memories.

"Did you have to run down the street with a tight skirt and high heels on Frank?" Bruce said and everyone cracked up and we were all laughing as the bell rang signalling that Evening Association was over.

Chris Lambrianiou said "The last time I saw you was on the corner of Old Compton Street and Frith Street with Gerry Hawley. Mickey I don't now how you did it son. Gerry was a hard fucker " Lambrianiou's face broke in a grin.

"I don't know how I did it either. I think that he underestimated me." An image of Gerry's face grinning, gloating and contemptuous flashed on in my brain as my punches to his body seemed to be powerless to hurt him.

"Anyway he was a right evil cunt. Reggie had him running the Adam and Eve at World's End in the Kings Road but he was always cutting someone or pulling guns on people. I was there when he striped Bobby Falco in the Rehearsal Rooms in Archer Street. He cut the tattoos off Bobby's minder's arms."

"The landscape with figures was a consistent theme of painters since artists started to make imagery which was born as an object" the ideas had been flowing through my brain before Lambrianiou had tapped on my door. It was Sunday afternoon and just wanted to get on with the painting that I was doing and I glanced back at it then became aware of Lambrianous silence and I realised that he was expecting some kind of response from me. I wrenched my mind out of the painting in which I had begun to see beautiful naked females among the foliage of Paradise with a single flesh coloured stroke of the brush. They were already there hiding among the luxurient foliage of the Garden.

"Yes he was a hard cunt all right. Sadistic. I heard about the story of him cutting the tattoos of his arm. What was the tattoo?" I asked.

"A parachute I think, I mean I could not see with all that claret. I man the guy, supposed to be a hardman was screaming out and begging him to stop. It was fucking horrible. I mean he didn't try to kill the geezer. I tell you who knows Gerry, Charlie Kray" said Lambrianiou.

I had only spoken to the older Kray brother briefly and he did not seem friendly fixing me with his cold blue eyes that reminded me of the stare of my own paternal line, so I had kept away from him.

"Well I spoke to Charlie" I said then changed the subject. "What else do you know about Gerry and why did the Twins fall out with Gerry? I asked.

"I told you there was violence all the time because Gerry would start it. Scotch Peter was always there and they started it always handing out more tram lines across the boat than I have had hot dinners. Of course the punters stopped going there." Lambrianiou stood up mto his six foot height and cracked his nuckles then washed his hands together. "Yes then he robbed Charlie Chesters Casino with a shooter and went round all the tables and took all the money. A really dangerous cunt. I don't know how you did it Mickey..."

Lambrianiou was making it clear that he did not like Hawley but doubted that I killed him face to face on my own. I stood up from my easel I knotted my fists into hard weapons feeling the Chi flow into the front knuckle, thenI fixed Lambrianiou with the cold eyes of my paternal male line. " He died on his feet" I said getting up and reaching under the bed I pulled out a folder. I noticed Lambrianiou step back a pace and become alert. He did not know what I had under the bed and I spoke quickly to reassure him. "Have a look hat it says here in the pathologist's report, and I pointed to a passage that I had underlined. "Gerald Joseph Patrick Hawley died from the first or second stab while standing" and down here the prosecution admit when the "fight started Michael John Muldoon was fighting in self defence" see look here.

Lambianiou looked and nodded "Yeah Mickey there was all sorts of stories going around like your Mrs had his bollocks in her handbag and things. You don't know what to believe. But I believe you Mickey and I don't blame you for cutting him up. I mean he would have done the same to you" Lambrianiou smiled.

"Yes I read that in True Detective they reckon Sandra did it" I said my mind flashing back to the point where I had delivered the fatal blow and Gerry realised that he had been mortally wounded . My hand flashed out several times more in order to deliver the coup de grace. It was not something I thought about with malice but my survival instincts programmed in my DNA by my warrior forefathers. "If a warrior defeats another in battle he should not let him live nor let him suffer" I said not thinking.

Lambrianiou nodded "You know what the Twins think a lot like you" he observed.

"I met Reggie coming back from a visit and we shook hands had a little chat while the screw stod there respectful like." I said smiling.

"Yeah Mickey you know why because he would have knocked the cunt out. That's for sure" said Lambrianiou emphatically a serious expression on his face. " Here I have to go and see Charlie for a game of poker. It was nice speaking to you Mickey" and he stuck out his hand.

It was a test of strength and we both applied maximum force "Yes I like to find out what people know about Gerry because I could no prove that he was violent" I said releasing hands.

With a laugh as he turned to leave. "Take care" he said.

"I could not prove that he was violent" I said in parting.

Lambrianiou stopped in his tracks "Fucking violent he was a nutter,and you don't want nutters on the firm do you?" he said grinning and walking off.

I made a habit of telling everyone my side of the story because it just seem to come out and peope were always questioning me about it.

"But I never told them everything no one ever does" I thought like when I was fighting with Hawley I had screamed out my wife's name "Sandra, Sandra" and that is when I had seen the contempt on Hawley's face. I had screamed out to Sandra for help thinking that Gerry would stop if she came on the scene or that she might bring me a weapon but "Perhaps he would have tried to kill her as well" I thought remembering his threat "I am going to kill all you big headed bastards." My mind was trying to solve the puzzle again and I knew that I would have to stop thinking about it again as I would drive myself insane.

The the Wing Governor looked me a sincere expression on his face " I would like to think that if I had of been in the same situation as you that I would have manage to do what you did " he said.

"Thank you Sir I do appreciate what you have said" I said meaning it.

"I was in the Intelligence Corps in the Army and I have read all about Hawley and what his commanding officer in the Parachute Corps wrote about him ""A killing machine"" is what he said" The Assistant Governor laughed. "Look Muldoon I don't think that you was ever a danger to the public and I am going to recommend you for parole. You have to have the new Governor's report as well. Remember that him and his wife paint as well. I don't think that you have met him yet" he said.

A new Governor had taken over and I expected some unwelcome changes. I looked down at my sketchbook and looked at the likeness of an intelligent, energetic and powerful man that I had just drawn and ripping out the sketch I gave it to him.

"Thank you very much" he said admiring his likeness.

Later in my cell thinking about what the AG had said I started to think about the outside and about going out which I had studiously avoided doing for the past several years. I started to write a letter "The "life" sentence is simply an indeterminant sentence which was decided in retrospect and not in court ar the time of the offence when all the facts were fresh in everyone's mind " I wrote as the pen flew over the paper until I had finished the letter to Rumpole. I folded up the letter which bore the header H M Prison Maidstone putting it in an envelope and which I would put in the postbox outside the Censor's Office in the morning. I also had a spare Visiting Order form that I filled in putting K. Eighteen on it. It was a peculiar name as it stared back at me from the page. I had not seen much of Kenny since his release and my Dad had told me that he had left my sister Kath now and was going out with a girl from the Frazer Family.

Kenny sat on the visit smiling and feeding me jellybeans beside him sat his new wife a dimunitive pretty girl. "Can you go and get us some tea and biscuits love" he said and the girl rose obediently to join the queue for the WRVS canteen.

Kenny lent forwars conspiratorially "The Fat Man you know Evan Phillips is dead" Kenny said looking at me to judge my reactions.

"Dead" I said shocked. "How did it happen?"

"He was going QE and supposed to have committed suicide but I got the full SP from Tommy in Frith Street. Two of the Dirty Dozen went round his mother's house where he was staying saying they wanted to see him. They held him down and poured a bottle of whisky mixed with an OD of sleeping pills down his throat and waited until he was unconscious then called an ambulance, of course it was too late then."

"Fucking hell! Giving evidence against Old Bill is fucking dangerous. Who were the two Old Bill? I asked.

"Don't know, Tommy did not tell me but they should have topped that fucking rat Humphries but he is in protective custody" Kenny said.

"I can't believe it Philips dead. What's his wife Sandra doing" I asked.

"Oh she has left him soon as he said that he was giving evidence for the pros. People are shitting themselves over Soho, first it was Franky Albert thrown out of a window now the Fat Man" Kenny said.

"Its Albers not Albert I think. How do you know that Franky Albers was murdered?" I wanted to know.

"Look he told people that he had a meet with two of the Dirty Squad in his flat then he supposed to have jumped out of a window. It is all bollocks. You know Franky, right little hard cunt. He would not top himself" Kenny said emphatically.

I knew that Kenny was right.

Just then Kenny's wife arrived with a tray of biscuits and tea "No sugar for you and Ken" she smiled sweetly like a little girl and placed a cup of tea down in front of Kenny and me.

I understood that did not want did not discusshings that he had just told me in front of his wife. bet I remembered that Albers was the broker, a go between bent Old Bill and people who had been charged with any offence in the West End. He worked with a bent solicitor's clerk that I knew and was said to be able to get you out of anything if you had the money. He knew too much but he would never talk so I did not know why they killed him.

"Penny for your thoughts" Kenny's wife was saying.

I realised that Kenny and I were not talking just sitting there thinking. "Oh I was just thinking" I said with a smile.Kenny handed me some more jelly beans and I sat there chewing trying to think of something to say. I was wondering if Kenny had bought me up any hash but he said nothing and I did not ask. "This is the guy who I had got life " for I thought as I sat there. It was a good job that one could not be charged twice for the same offence because he was openly boasting that he had killed Gerry and it had got back to me.

Back in my cell I thought about the Fat Man and what Kenny had told me about how he had died. I imagined him terrified and alone in his mother's house with the Porn Squad officers knocking on the door. I had known him for years and remembered how we used to go out to restaurants together with our wives. Now he was dead! I knew that I was lucky to be alive.

The grapevine was alive with the buzz "Jimmy Humphries is down reception." I wondered what he was doing here and I was soon to find out.That evening after lock up I heard someone coming up the iron staircase and walking along the fives landing towards my cell, stopping outside then a key in the lock and the door opening.

The Chief stood there a smile on his face. " Muldoon, Jimmy Humphries is down on the ones and is asking to see you. Between you and I, that is why he is here to see you" the Chief said an excited look on his face.

"Well Chief I don't want to see him" I replied quickly.

"But Muldoon, you don't understand he is offereing you a Queen's Pardon" the Chief said smiling again.

"How can a grass like Humphries offer me a Queen's Pardon?" I asked.

"Well it is not him but he is going to tell you about an offer" the explained the Chief smiling again.

When someone came along to your cell and unlocked it after bang up everyone in the huge echo chamber of New Wing could hear it and those nearby could hear conversations by pressing their ears against the crack in the door jamb. "No I don't want to see the slag" I said again.

"Don't be silly" the Chief said just come and listen to what he has to say.

I followed the Chief down the stairs to a cell next to the Chief's Office where people under observation were put.

Humphries was laying there on the bed drinking a glass of whisky. "Hello Mickey! Hows it going, all right?" and he stuck out his hand,

I ignored his hand and just stood there staring down at the little cardboard gangster with a look of contempt on my face. I had never liked or trusted Humphries from the first time that I had met him and how he acquired the reputation as a hard man and was trusted by people I did not know. Now he was going Q E and ruining a big earner for lots of bent coppers and those that paid them. I wondered why he was still alive.

"Do you want a drink son?" Humphries gestured at the botle of whiskey on the chair beside the bed.

"No I have given it up" I replied.

"Mick the pros has sent a message to you that if you give evidence against Alton and Moody he will give you a Queen's Pardon" he smiled a cunning look on his face."He will guarantee it before you go in the box. The pross will spunk in his pants when he see you walk in the box" Humphries said confidently.

I just stood thee thinking how tempting the offer was. A Queen's Pardon would allow me to walk out of the court a freeman and with enough compensation to make me rich. But I knew that I could not break the code it was too strong and I had lived by all my life. I had to remain strong and keep schtum. "No" I said

"But Mick you are doing life and you could be free. Don't be silly!"

I turned away and walked out of his cell and back up the iron staircase to the fives down to my cell and banged the door. Then I sat on the bed wondering how I had refused the offer of freedom. "One of the coppers was Alton who had forced Evan Philips to put a contract on me" I thought "I did not owe him any favours", then I thought about his murder and wondered "what would have happened if Evan Philips had come out with this in the box. No wonder they done him!r Alton should be in the box charged with conspiracy to murderand I would have been given a retrial" I thought the revelation hitting me like a thunderbolt.

The next day as soon as I as unlocked I walked down to the end of the landing to Stocker's cell.

He started to make up the pipe "What was that all about last night?" he asked.

"Jimmy Humphries offered me a Queen's Pardon if I gave evidence against two Old Bill" I replied.

Stocker smiled and grasped my hand "So you are out then son" he said smiling offering me the loaded pipe.

"No I refused" I said. "I am not a wrong one!"

"But it is Old Bill, Mickey it is different" Alan protested.

I lit the pipe and inhaled deeply blowing out the smoke that floated in the air of Stocker's cell. "Is it?" I remarked. "I had a contract with them and contracts are very important."

"Mickey don't be silly no one could turn down and offer like this. You are mad" Stocker said his face serious.

"Yes I am mad" I said laughing."Come on let's go down and get our breakfast. I have got some eggs. Do you want a fried egg for brakfast?

It was Sunday morning and the new governor was coming over to do the Sunday Morning Inspection and the new governor was coming over to inspect the wing and when I experienced this ritual then I realised the analogy with the Army. The governor was the Ruling Class commanding office, the CO who was coming to inspect the living quarters of the working class soldiers and the screws were the police. I walked along the landings and went passed the other Lambrianiou's cell, then did a double take and stopped to look again, A large cross displaying a tortured Christ hung on the end wall and around the small cell were hung numerous religious paintings and bas reliefs and at the end of the cell was a make shift altar. A wondered what the Governor would make of it and whether he would be impressed that this ex Kray Gang member had undergone a religious awakening and found Christ. "No wonder Chris his brother did not speak to him" I thought as I walked on. I paused and looked out of the window and onto the old Medway Wing where the sex offenders were held. There was a huge crowd of prisoners assembling outside the wing to go to church. The proportion of religious sex offenders compared to the main prison population was high and I realised that it reflected society. Sex offenders were composed of working class, middle class and the infrequent upper class whereas the main prison population was overwhelmingly working class. I suspected that the low intake of upper class prisoners as sex offenders was due to the richness of the sex lives and their ability to pay for sex. I could hear Frankie Sims singing in a stentorian voice that was amplified by the big hollow wing, echoing down the hallway and into everyone's ears. The Chaps smiled at each other as they passed on the landings at this display of East End boy morale lifting. I noticed some of the screws face's tighten as though resenting the fact that a prisoner seemed so happy that he enjoyed being in prison but I knew that Franky was just a good actor. To the screws the chaps seemed to enjoy prison and spent a lot of time keeping fit, swimming, badmington, football, basket ball, volley ball, running and weight lifting and they all had cushy jobs like Bruce who was a librarian a job that entailed going anywhere in the prison with a trolley as well as access to lots of information about what was happening or going to happen as all notifications went to the library and mosto the rest were in full time education.

Sims was standing in his door way and I walked towards him glancing into the cells noticing that most prisoners had laid out their kit military style, boxing their sheets and blankets, blanket sheet, blanket sheet and shone up the inside of their chamber pots which they laid on their side.

"Hello Mickey how are you, all right me old son" Franky greeted me his big red face glowing with health and jollity.

"I'm all right Frank! How are you?"

"Fit as a fiddle mate" he said. I looked into Franky's cell which was spotless if a little untidy for a governor's inspection " I see that you have not shined up your piss pot Frank ! I joked.

"Shined up my piss pot, yeah that's a good one" he turned around and turned down the volume of his Roberts radio. "Here Micky 'ave you seen this geezer's pisspot next door the cunt?" Franky's brown eyes were sparkling and dancing with glee as I followed him next door to view the shiny pisspot. "Here hold on a minute Owens is over there geting a blow job from Luke the iron, just bog Luke's peter a sec" Franky laughed.

I just lounged against the landing rail watching Frank who entered Owen's cell. he then pulled down his trousers and excreted into the shiny chamber pot and wiped his arse on a piece of toilet paper "Caw that's better" he said pulling up his grey flannel trousers and following me back to his cell "Fucking hell smell that pen and ink" he said before he broke into a fit of laughter crouching behind his cell door.

"See you Frank" I said getting away from the foul stench emanating from Owen's cell.

I could hear the big iron gates unlocking on the one's, signalling the arrival of the new governor Mr Timms. Everyone had to stand in the doorway of their cells until the governor has inspected the four hundred cells of New Wing. I made a last look around my cell which was cluttered with paints, brushes and crowded with a full size easel that I had acquired from the Roundhouse. Paintings hung crowded together on the walls,my cell was my studio, AG had told me he was a painter and I felt like he would be interested in my work.

Rhino the Chief lumbered out of the wing office and shouted "Governor's inspection", radios were switched off, voices died down as the wing became silent like a big eardrum searching for sound, then the only sound was the governor's footsteps clicking along the slate landings and the occasional sound of his voice as he stopped and spoke to a prisoner. He was on the fours now and I looked down to see a preist like man with thick black, greying at the sides, a crucifix glinting the lapel of his dark sombre suit. Then he was climbing up onto the fives and coming around the landing, nodding a greeting to each prison as he preceded. He stopped at Dunford's cell and looking at Dunford's door card he said "Good morning Dunford."

"Good Morning Sir" I heard Dunford answer in his deep friendly voice.

Then the governor approached my cell and when he looked inside, stopped on the landing accompanied by a Principal Office. He looked at my doorcards and I was aware of his large liquid eyes studying my door card. " Good morning, mmm Muldoon, is that a contradiction atheist and a painter?" he remarked coming to my cell.

"Good morning Sir. But I prefer to be described as an agnostic." I said.

"What do you believe in, Muldoon? Do you believe in God?"

"Yes I believe that there was or could be such a being.He was one of the immortals" " I said.

"Believing in God is the main thing but what about Jesus" asked the governor. "My name is Timms, please call me Mr Timms" said the governor shaking my hand warmly.

"What I believe in cannot be said in words and only by images Mr Timms" I said.

The governor stopped to look at one of my "back to the Garden paintings.

"Is is this The Garden of Eden?" asked the governor looking at one of the figures in a landscapes that covered my cell walls.

"Mmm I must say that I like your work. Both my wife and I paint" Timms said turning to me smiling.

"I have some larger works in the Art Room at the Roundhouse that I would love to show you. I am there on full time education" I invited.

"I would love to see more of your work and I will arrange it with the Education Department" the govenor said, turning and walking out of my cells his shiny black leather shoes, wih their hard leather soles clicking along the landing.

I smiled to myself thinking that my meeting with the governor had gone really well then I looked along the landing towards Franky's cell where I was surprised to see Owens standing in his cell doorway oblivious of the shit that Franky had done in his shiny pot. Then I heard the sound of farting emanating from Sim's cell. Ironically Owens then covered his nose with a handkerchief not realising that the foul smell was coming from his own cell. Sims was humming Open the Door Richard as the governor and the Chief approached.

Timms suddenly stopped in his tracks outside Owen's cell and as Owens came out of his cell awaiting inspection he stood there at the glancing what I knew was the shiny pot with an enormous turd sticking out. Then he walked away in a hurry and clattered down the stairs to the ones accompanied by the big lumbering Rhino that shook the railings of the metal staircase as he followed the governor down. Then his departure from New Wing with a banging and crashing of the big double iron gates.

"Mickey why don't you take it, the Queen's Pardon" I mean? said Bruce.

I smoked a pipe of Nepalese inhaling its sweet spicy smoke and holding it in my lungs until I could hold it no longer my chin pressed down. I lifted my chin letting out two plumes of smoke then said "Because I had a contract with these guys" I answered.

"Mickey that is absolute bollocks. They were bent coppers putting protection on you." Bruce answered with everyone making assenting noises.

"I would not like to be Jimmy Humphries" I said. "Is he going to be under protection from the rubber heel mob all this life." I wondered why I was not taking the pardon. Was there such a thing as free will I did not seem to have any choice except to refuse. I remembered what had happened to Evan Philips and what had nearly happened to me but I did not say anything about that.

"Yes but Mickey you owe nothing to these Old Bill they fucking fitted you up that is why they are offering you a pardon" insisted Bruce. "The pross is offering you a Queen's Pardon because he thinks that you are not guilty" he added.

I realised that "those above" wanted the corrupt old squares to go down and I realised that Bruce was right "That is ever I got to court" I thought. "No I am not doing it" I said.

"Fucking hell you are fucking crazy" exclaimed Stocker.

"Yeah fucking crazy! Just think that you can go home with your missus and kids" Tuttle said.

"Yeah man think of your wife and kids" said Danny the Rasta

"Yes they are very improtant in your life" observed the Dutchman.

" It is a full moon tomorrow" I observed. "I will be flying over the wall tomorrow.

"Yes Tabby's got some new acid called microdots and they said to be more powerful than Strawberry Fields" said Bruce.

The bell started to ring and the pipemaker cum doorman got up and started to bang out the wedge and open the door and saying our good nights we went out into the brightness and noise of New Wing with three hundred voices calling and chattering to each other, the jangling of keys, the shouts of "All away now" from the screws and the banging of doors, four hundred doors, crashing shut, the sound of the bolts shooting in the locks. I walked along the landing to my cell with Stocker and Danny Lewis walking in front. "Goodnight Danny, Goodnight Alan" I said walking straight into the sanctuary of my cell and banging the door before the approaching landing screw could. In the stone and metal box of my cell the sounds of the outside wing now filtered through, muffled by thick walls, some filtering round the thick metal doorframe. The banging of doors ceasing and screws calling out the names of those stragglers who practically had to be forced into the boxes of their cells. "Come on Owens lad, lets have you into that shithouse of a cell" I heard one screw shout and I smiled to myself as I remembered Sims shitting in Owen's shiny pot.

"Fours ninety eight Sir, Threes eighty nine Sir, Fives ninety two Sir, Ones sixty one" came the voices of the screws shouting down the roll.

I got into bed the words "Queens Pardon" going through my head over and over again and I wondered if I was indeed insane.

"I would not take two myself, these microdots are very, very powerful" Stocker said seriously as though he was really concerned about my welfare.

I knelt in front of the painting and stuck two microdots on it. "I want to trip during the day on my own. I am going to try and get sick in cell for one day" I said.

The doctor looked at my record "This is the first time you have been sick that I can see since the seven years you have been in prison. What is the matter? I must say that you look fit to me!"

"Well doctor I feel a bit low because I know that my body is under attack from a virus. My immune system is working overtime. Outside I would just stay in bed for the day and next day it would be gone. I would be obliged if you could give me one days rest in cell" I said.

"All right One days rest in cell." he wrote in the book as he spoke.

The screw hung a RIC notice on my door and banged me inside. "Everything was going to plan" I thought.

I looked at the acrylic painting on the wall and to a certain part of it where I had stuck the microdots and pulled them off. I loooked down at the small black dots that lay in the palm of my hand. How could they be as powerful as the bigger pink saccharine sized Strawberry Fields?" I thought.

I wanted to have a sex trip in my cell. I could not get any women in prison but with the aid of powerful hallucinogenics I was going to conjure one or two up. I looked in the mirror and popped the two black dots on my tongue and swallowed them with some water. I then switched on the radio to my favourite station and lay down on the bed to listen to Radio Caroline.

"I'm on the road again" came the gravely voice.

"It was great this station. Not much talking and they play LPs" I thought.

"Your a smoker, a joker, a midnight toker" came the lyrics and I started to feel nauseous I knew that this was very powerful acid that was working quickly and I pulled a chamber pot from under my bed and knelt on the floor sending a hot stream acid pouring from my mouth. I had been fasting since yesterday afternoon not wanting any food in my stomach as vomiting was possible on an acid trip and now my bowels were moving too. I got up and rang the bell and I heard the sound of a screw's boots pounding up the stairs. I had to get out of my cell because I could not trip with it in my cell, the smell would be unbearable as acid heightened all the senses and one could smell a flower from fifty yards.

The key went in the lock "Yes Muldoon" said the screwthe door open.

"I have got diarrhoea can I go to the loo governor?" I said moving towards the door.

"Back yourself up when you have finished" said the screw that everyone called Marine because of his exploits in the armed forces. He was friendly, played the guitar and a really nice guy.

"It would be great if all screws were like Marine" I thought as my bowels emptied a long stream of poison into the bowl. I leant back and flushed the toilet feeling some water splash up onto my buttocks. Picked up the bottle of water I had brought with me into the cubicle and poured some down the back of my buttocks, washing away the poison and got up and walked straight into the adjoinng shower room . The hot water poured down on me, cleaning me. I steeped out of the shower cubicle and wrapped the towel around me and went back to my cell got the piss pot and emptied it down the recess, pushing the flush button. The trip was coming on me now and I had to get all my all my abulutions done before it came on me and get back to the sanctuary of my cell.

I filled my jug with water the final task and went back into my cell and immediatly banged the door with as minimum force as possible but as the metal door hit the lock and the bolt shot into the doorframe a ripple of energy ran along the metal door and frame and up the wall, the floor had begun to feel different and feel not solid. I could hear people coming in from work now and the trip was getting really powerful.

The screw opened the door a flash of a hat badge, a dark blue uniform, the strap of a truncheon, the chain and keys "Dinner Muldoon?" asked the screw.

"No I don't fancy any today guvnor " I said and the screw shut the door with a bang.

The vibrations rippled and buckled the wall and the floor shook as if in an Earthquake and I rode the ripple back to my bed and lay down.

"A working class hero is something to be, a working class hero is something to see, a working class hero is somehing to fear" the words echoed through my brain.

The spyhole was flicked up and one of Stocker's unmistable blue eyes twinkled at the Judas Hole "All right son?" he said. "Anything you want?" his voice distorted his eye enormous.

"No nothing Alan, thanks I shouted to be heard through the metal and stone and above my blaring radio ponding out a beat that the pulsed through the building, shaking it, morphing it in time with the beat.

"All right son, have a nice one" Alan said and then his footsteps walking away.

I got into bed and closed my eyes and I was at the cinema waching the flickering screen. I sat in the back row with my girlfriend and my hand was up her skirt laying against the bare flesh of her thigh above her stockings, kissing her hard as I pushed my hand between her thighs. I could feel her cunt through her knickers, then her hand came down.

"No! I have told you before, after we get engaged" Jean said smoothing down her ra ra dress with a rustle of voluminious petticoats.

I took my porn collection and spread my pictures on the bed together with the photos of Sandra. I looked at the picture of Susan and the big cock in her mouth was mine and I moved into the scene, my cock was hard and sticky pn my hand, Susan's lips started to suck, then I opened my eyes and I was kissing Susan. Sandra sat beside her on the settee started to kiss her too, while she pushed her long red tongue into Susan's mouth. "Susan now get down on your knees and suck her cunt" I commanded pushing her head in between Sandra's stockinged thighs. "Suck her out you bitch" and I brought my open palm down sharply across Susan's buttocks, a red handprint spreading across her milky white buttocks. I brought down my hand again and the red spread the prints suffusing into each other making my cock as hard as iron.

"Oh fuck me, fuck me please" Susan was gasping her face turned towards me over her shoulder, her pink lips wet and open, her eyes rolling up inside her head in ecstasy.

I picked up the photo album and looked at the whole plate photo of Sandra sitting on a large cushion. She was heavily made up and wore a mini skirt that showed her tight white knickers and suspender tops with top that was semi transparent. I looked at her nipples then up at her face and " Do you love Susan sucking your cunt baby"

"Yes I love it, you know that I do, spank her hard, make her lick me until I come Mickey"

Susan's eyes were rolling up in her head as I grasped the long blonde ponytail of her hair and pushed my cock into Sandra's cunt. ""Keep licking and sucking you bitch" I said while fucking Sandra harder and harder, feeling Susan's lips on my cock as it slid in and out and now her tougue was licking around my bollocks. the pleasure was so intense. I looked at the other porn photos and magazines spread out on my bed and pulled them out of the images and soon I was engaged in an orgy of pleasurewith several beautiful girls. I felt like I was going to come and intense waves of pleasure vibrated my body and the pleasure went on and on "She's coming colours in her hair , she's like a rainbow" sang the radio, notes and lyrics floated through the air, I was in Heaven and as I orgasmed the whole world exploded in a thousand million colours. My body vibrated faster and faster and began to rise off the bed then the white light flashed faster and faster in a beam of light until I merged with it and began to move in sloping angle that lead up through the wall of the roof and out into the light, I rose faster and faster towards the white light, anthromorphic shapes examining me, grasping my penis and milking it.

A light began to flash and I was flying above the Earth down below I could see the lights of buildings approaching then I recognised the grounds of Maidstone Prison I turned back towards the bright light "I don't want to go back" I shouted out in desperation but to no avail, I flew, unable to change course, towards my cell lights, through the wall, glimpsing my body lying on the bed before I looked out through the eyes. Footsteps were approaching the spyhole flicking open then the light went off and I was plunged into the void swirling, blackness. "Nine o' clock! How can it be nine o' clock? I thought as the Floyd rocked my brain "If you are taking your girlfriend out tonight....cardboard cup...you had better run " the music was pounding through my head. "You had better run" and mad cackling voices flooded my brain.

I was still awake as it began to get light and dawn shone through the bars of my window then I heard the hammering.I looked in the mirror and knew that I was Jesus. I brushed my shoulder length hair away from my shoulders and smoothed my beard. I coud hear the banging of nails into wood and knew that they were constructing a cross outside. I was going to be crucified again, they had discovered that I was back on Earth.

I got down on my hands and knees the hot tears flowing, falling on the floor of my prison cell "Dear God forgive me for thy tresspass against you, forgive me for challenging your authority" I pleaded but He did not hear my pleas for mercy. They knew that I could put myself into a trance and lower my heartbeat until it was imperceptible, this time they would smash my thighs if I stayed alive too long and I would blow up and die trapped upon the Earth.

The sound of boots was coming nearer and I prayed once more "God please let me live and I swear that I will never take the forbidden substance again. Blood trickled down my forehead and fell on the floor of my cell, I looked up at the window and heard the baying of the mob, the shouts, the screaming for blood, my blood. The Priests had consprired to have me arrested and crucified. The final straw had been when I had run into the Temple and full of rage knocked over the tables of the filthy, evil usurers who were a disgrace working in the Temple where the Jews were praying. The Priests wanted me dead because I had preached revolt against the Roman invader and also because I had stopped the flow of filthy lucre that corrupted the Priests. These humans who had convinced the masses that they had the ear of God they knew that I was the son of a god, one of the Immortals too and that my powers even though diluted by human blood could defeat them and take away their worldly possessions.

"Oh how I despise their jewels and golden adornments

As I approached Sim's cell I heard the sound of voices of the Chaps who were getting ready for the evening smoke. Just before I got to the cell I noticed Singleton a prisoner who worked in the Officer's Mess, sitting in Owen's cell leaning forward as if listening, a pencil poised to take notes. I knew immediately that he was a spy, a grass as we called them. I walked straight past without looking at him and entered Frank's cell which already contained everyone but me.

"Here he is wedge up the door" ordered Frank.

I held my finger up to my lips and said in a low voice. Singleton is next door taking notes! What have you been talking about. I could hear your voices four peters away" I said and everyone began to look at each other.

"Your getting para" said Tuttle.Sims got up with a grim expression on his face "Hold it lads I'm going to see for myself" he said in a low voice then shot out of his peter.

"What was you talking about?" I asked.

Frank came back to his cell and pointed at his wall and said in a low voice "Mickey is right" he is a fucking grass taking notes."

"Feed him some false information" I said in a low voice/

Franky winked and said in a loud voice "Yeah Toby is going to bring a big joey of steak back from work tomorrow.

The next morning Toby was taken for a "special" search by two security screws and we all knew that Singleton was a "wrong one."

Toby spoke in an excited voice "The cunt thought that he was having an heart attack and he is in the hospital now."

We all crowded round him listening eagerly to what had happened to Singleton the grass.

"He was cutting up some vegetables when he said ""I feel a bit funny"" and I said ""you look like your having an heart attack"" and you know what the silly cunt fell on the floor clutching at his heart."

Everyone was laughing now and Toby was laughing, tears in his eyes, slapping his thigh with tears in his eyes. "The fucking cunt was rolling about on the floor so I pressed the alarm bell and when the screws arrived they asked him what was up and he said ""I am having a heart attack" anyway the took the silly cunt over to the hospital.

Everybody burst out laughing hearing Toby's tale and I thought that Singleton had a bad time ahead.

Bruce said "Do you want some hash Toby?"

"No fuck that stuff. I get really para on that fucking gear. No but I would not mind a bit of that Merrydowns that you had at Christmas" Toby said his small brown eyes jumping around and he wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand.

"It is all gone, we drank the lot but i know that Mick is going to make some more soon" Bruce said looking at me.

"Sure I will make it but I wont drink any" I said thinking that I did not want to be in a cell with several drunk prisoners and I looked at the short balding Toby and smiled.

I was sitting in the Art Room painting and when I heard Rhino shouting. I stopped painting and climbed up to the window and looked out. There was Rhino about thirty yards away sitting on the stone wall shouting out after a woman typist who had come out of the "admin block" and walked down the tarmac ath to the gate. Two more women office workers, Doris and Dolly approched Rhino who was dressed in his gold braided Chief's uniform.

"Caw Doris darling I would love to fuck you" Rhino was saying in a loud voice.

I saw the girls look at him disaprovingly and quicken their step towards the gate house.

I realised that Rhino was on a trip and that someone had tabbed him up. Rhino was puffning now in the heat and I saw him take off his hat, take a hankerchief and mop his brow. At over sixteen stone Rhino was carrying a lot of excess fat but I knew that he was an endomorph and had a lot of muscle underneath that subcutaneous layer of fat.

Two white jacketted hospital screws were approaching now and they went up to Rhino. I exect that he was drunk but so many people had been hospialised on suspected of being "drugs" that the hospital staff must be that Rhino had probably been spiked. The standard treatment that they gave was a dose of tranquilliser and sent home if they were staff, hospitalised if they were prisoners. They got their arms under his shoulders, struggled to get the massive Rhino to his feet and then the trio staggered off towards the hospital.

Tabby passed me his little pipe charged with a ice of straw coloured hash and I applied the flame to it and inhaled deeply handing the still smoking pipe back to him. He sat on the toilet with the lid down while I stood by the window facing the back of Maidstone Crown Court looking at the see through glass of the women's toilet. A girl was in one now and facing this way pulled down her knickers with a little wriggle that some women have. Looking at this distorted image from a distance of fifty yards my brain still sent a message to my penis that tingled pleasantly through my body.

"Yes you should have seen old Rhino" I said those Americans will see how the system is being undermined here. ""He who the gods want to destroy, first make them"" mad" I said.

"Yeah man I was watching him too this stuff can destroy your repution in a moment, forever" observed Tabby. A lot of guys crack up and it is only if you uhave been tracuntined you can function normally. Of course the intelligence services have used this stuff but hallicinogenics have been around for a long time and I expect that the Ancient Egyptians, Greeks and Romans used them too in cloak and dagger stuff."

"A prison is a perfect testing ground for substances a microcosm and the effects and reactions are reported back by the way I heard that Mathews had another bummer. I heard him pleading you for another chance.

Tabby handed me the smouldering pipe "It's zero, zero Moroccan, a high, high rather than a zonker like the black. You get really high but with a clear mind" he said. Yes Terry went on another bummer and shouted out ""They are taking me down the pub again"" as the hospital screws were carrying him across the square. But the best bit was happened in the hospital. He knocked over a jug of water in his cell and to him it seemed as though he was drowning, so he rings the bell and asks for a mop and bucket. I mean this is at ten o'clock at night.

I took the pipe and inhaled the smoke looking out of the window for more glimpses of female flesh listening to Tabby relate the ale of Terry's second bad trip and i thought of the last time that I tripped and got down upon my knees and promised God that I would not take them again.

"He mopped out his hospital peter then looking out on the landing he sees that it is filthy and starts to mop that too. There is this nutter on the landing who looks out of his observation flap and sees Terry mopping the landing and says ""Hear you cunt! What do thik your doing?"" and Terry goes "Shut up you are the cunt, you fucking cunt"" and with this the nutter throws a unch at Terry through the flap, then he falls down with his arm out of the flap and breaks his fucking arm. All fucking hell broke loose. it was a full moon and all those nutters began howling like wolves and Terry went on a real bummer then man thinking that the werewolves were trying to get him and that they had to ut him in a straight jacket and give him a shot of tranqs before they could calm hm down. Wow man what a bummer" Tabby said.

I looked out of the window and repeated his word "Yeah what a bummer" while looking compulsively at a woman who had just entered a cubicle, now she was lifting her blouse and my cock was becoming semi erect.

"Got a be going now man" see you soon man, take care" and Tabby slid across the bolt of the toilet.

I relocked I and went back to the window and played with my cock. I could see her nipples now and she was lifting her breasts towards me and i had to stop myself coming because I wanted to work on another illustrated book tonight. Ben was pleased with the last one I had done and wanted more like it. I wonder what it was like to draw on acid? Hash was all right in that it was a spur to creativity and it got one actually working. I would draw in bed when I had finished another marathon smoking session with the chaps. I would rest the drawing book on my knees and draw with one hand the other masturbating. I would do some more tonight.

I put the steak acquired from the Officer's Mess in the pot with some crushed garlic, onions, salt and pepper and some Sage and pressed the lid on tight. I had invented this way of cooking because if a security screw looked inside the pot it was hard to tell the contents and if it was fresh contraband meat as opposed to the tinned stuff sold in the canteen whereas a frying pan or oven dish would betray the forbidden fresh meat. I would not take off the lid until the meat had cooked in its own juices and I found that the meat was very tender this way.

Mother the queer was approaching her jolly round face lit into a smile "How long are are you going to be dear?"

"About ten minutes" I said knowing that she wanted the saucepan with the lid. There were two communal saucepans and the Chinese probably were using the other making a marinade.

Mother stood there watching "What are we making tonight for the lads then?" Mother inquired looking at the pot that was beginning to release a delicious odour.

"Beef a la Francaise" I answered. It was nearly done now and I tookthe meat off the gas and mixed in a bit of mustard and sugar into the juices dipping in the spoon and tasted it. As I tasted it I was conscious of being a professed vegetarian consuming meat, or even its juice.

"Oh al Frenchified are we" said Mother in mock reproach her hand upon her hip. "I will cook the lads a good ol roast beef, sprouts, parsnips and baked potatoes if they want. that is what I like" she said a smile lighting up her round chubby face with its mop of blond curly hair. Mother did not wear make up or act feminine way like some prison queers but was openly homosexual.

I took the pot off the gas and wrapping it in a towel I carried it upstairs to the Chaps who devoured it with relish while I absorbed all the comments. As they were eating there came a knocking at the door.

"Can I have the pot ducky?" came the voice of Mother out on the landing.

"Open the door" I said "I will have to give her the pot". The wedge was banged out to a chorus of ribald comments from the Chaps and when I gave the pot to Mother she snatched it from my had and stormed off along the landing like an old Queen.

Rose sat on the visit a kindly woman from a Trust that put on exhibitions for prisoners and sold their work.

I stacked up three canvasses against the legs of the table for Rose "There is three more paintings for you to sell" I said smiling at the middle aged woman.

"We had the mystery buyer again. He arrived at the gallery in a Rolls Royce and bought two of yours before the exhibition" Rose said ethusiastically.

"Rose do you think that you could get me a one man show" I asked her.

" I would like to but the Home Office will not allow it. We have to do what they say or else we could not get ito the prisos to collect prisoers work. Jean ad I had a hard job to get in to see prison artists". Rose said.

As I looked at Rose and who was now running a charity that had a considerable income to spend on hostels and to help ex prisoners all from the sale of art and handicrafts produced by prisoners and marvelled at the fact that so many people were put into prison where they had lots of time discovered that they had a creative side. I realised that all of us had made our own artefacts for hundreds of thousands of years and the skills of their ancestors were still there in their germ line.

Coming back into the wing Samways comes up to me an woried look on his face. Its Stocker! He has threatened to do the Dutchman.

"I will go and talk to him. What's it all about?" I asked.

"Dunno nothing important, do you know what I mean like" answered Samways his grizzled, lined face creasing into a frown.

CONTINUED

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